Or so they say. Or so they say.

But I have seen a predawn glow
That holds more fear for me, you know,
Than any darkness ever held.

No it’s not darkness there I dread
But light that seeps into my head
Through eyes both weary and inspired
To dreams most natural and acquired.

Light that takes my hands by force
And drains them of their living blood.
And dips them in God’s inkwell, blue
And smothers them in stormy hue.

I see the world, through eyes undead
and wish for light to dance.