The mighty wake of sunshine blooms the morn to life.

A candle loses it's flame, for no need anymore, forth comes from window a light.

What is it light? A silent offering of hope.

Nay, a wilful sigh to end all night and give comfort to the day.

Worlds surround hope, or hope surrounds not.

Believe in the sight of light or the sight of day?

Only one answers the riddle of life's grave.

To death is given life.

Life is but the end.

If it be but end, then why the light?

Such is the way of candles fire, and sun.

Such is the way the World begun.

Should not this be the end?

Yea, it shall, for end is life.

Birth is darkness brought to light.

So to death be light not darkness.

Death be darkened not ever more...