A beacon of hope in the lonely night, I know it’s there.
I can’t see it in under the depressing fog of city lights.
Even the country gives no glimmer under its dark clouds of anxiety.

When I do see it, catching a glimpse, I barely notice.
I only remember the days when I don’t see it.
I remember the sadness, the deep sadness.

I’ll see it again, and I’ll remember its happy glow.
I’ll remember that I can feel its warmth once again.
I’ll remember that even though it’s alone, it burns brighter and hotter than our own sun!

Son of Sappho Poetry

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