Alone in the forest of the black gnarled trees

They beckon for me to join them in the dark.

No moon shines bright through where there should be leaves,

Just black, bare. branches and bark.

I cradle my candle and its hot wax warms my hands,

It shields me from the creatures of the night.

Icy winds pierce my skin and tell me to become one of their friends.

All I must do is put out my bright light.

The trees want me to be like them, their dead candles lie at their feet.

To succumb to the voices and submit.

They say the dark is better, that the life of the forest is sweet.

Just pinch out the candle, that's it.

But my candle is my life, my protection among the trees.

In its warm glow I've shelter

I shout unto the night, I won't join their society.

I refuse the dark enveloper.

But the trees won't have it, they lash with their tongues.

Words, like thorns, sting my side.

They scorn all those who the trees are not among.

Arrows of hate pierce even the thickest hide.

The falme starts to dim, to give in to the darkness

Perhaps its better to let them make my choices.

Yet out in the distance, a light stands out with great starkness

I am not alone, there are many voices!

Each light so empowered it forces back the night.

They flee before their advances.

Each light shines pure, flawless in its own right.

Beams pierce the viel, bend back the branches.

Though the darkness wears on, not yet deafeated

it is flecked with our light holding ground.

No light needs the darkness, now matter how well entreated.

Do not give up, or go without a sound.