All the color is gone, and life's precious luster lacks in lavish supplies,
an abundance of memories angered bees running wild in my skull, all the lies.
Raising my hands to night skies, so the wise can prophecize my palm lines,
my path illuminated by the creatures of earth, my ethereal guides the fireflies.
Synchronized, bulbs of light swimming in the infinite dark hue of the eternal night.
Each twirl and swirl across the world, banishing my grief; they banish my fright.
Even when they fly away from me, and I follow them, they turn left but it's still right.
I'd come out in my lawn, when I'm all alone and every where I turn is not my home.
Darkness shrouds my soul but has aurora, my hollow shell bright with chrome.
Now I come out from my house and its sadness, to the only friends I've ever known.
This loneliness to which I am prone is gone now, the sky's tears wetting my brow.
Even in rain, my pals still will come out to see me, dancing like only they know how.
In my nocturnal state, I'd lay for them in wait, outside as long as time would allow.
Now, my tears are masked from the cool snowflakes landing on my sullen cheeks.
I'd sit there, sobbing nightly waiting for my only companions every day, every week.
Dying inside, waiting for those who my secrets I could confide, I simply couldn't speak.
I wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, until that time until they'd would show me new techniques.