By Aetre


Sit beneath the sunset where you study the precision

Of a little glare that melts your eyes to crystal vision


You wish that it would go away

Take your time; the sun will see another day.


When youíre running to the fire that starts a candleís wick thatís glowing

Make with your mistake until you see just where youíre going


And the light is something else

You canít see; itís a vision of a vision of yourself.


Stuck between the light of a new light that lights the other

Made between the shade that calls itself Darknessís brother


What do you say, where do you go?

You donít know the pyrotechnics of your soul.


Run and hide and never do admit youíve made a monster

Fire unto the flame that feeds the force that says it wants her


What did she say, where did she go?

You donít know the pyrotechnics of your soul.


Sit beneath the sunset and deny your crystal vision

Lie beneath the stars and say youíre speaking so youíll listen

Say that ítil your brain thinks youíre on fire and then youíll get it:

Why do you study stars when you can master pyrotechnics?