Look:
a spark,
surging through
the dark.

"A flare?"

"Light,"
I'm told,
"Doesn't exist
here."

Look:
Blackness.
The light is fading.

"Bright things do.
It's just how it is."

"Why are you being
so cynical?"

"Would you prefer
a lyrical? I don't know
if I can sing, but I'll give
it a shot."

Look:
darkness.

"What are you looking
at?"

"Nothing now."

"I thought you saw
a light."

"It's gone. There's only
night."

Look:
There it is again,
brighter this time.
It's swinging round
and climbing to the sky.

"Do you see it now?"

"I'm not blind."

"Is that-?"

"Oh my-"

Look:

[silence]