Sparkling, shimmering, shining,
lighting the path ahead.
Everyone else spends their whole life,
searching for the light at the end.
While here it is, burning bright,
right in front of me.

Suddenly, the lights begin to sing,
singing me to sleep,
and comforting me while I weep.
They burn, like torches in a race,
as I approach the end,
crossing the finish line.

These lights, my gentle monster.
For some lights burn, like a furnace.
Others destroy, like a wildfire.
But not mine, for they are gentle and loving.
Grasping me with arms open wide,
as if to never let me lose my way.