The sun was bright, and fire-bright
We watched our dermis melt.
How could a thing so warm and good
Just sit there as we knelt
And watched our lifeblood drain away
Like cherry syrup spelt
Atop our pancake, birthday, ninth:
It hovered there, just mocking us,
Warm but also cold.
It watched, silent, judging us
While crowds around us laughed.
And just like that we made this box,
And never left again.
Not to see the cursed sun,
Or Jerry, Nate, or Ben.
But maybe now, it’s been enough
For you to think: ‘Alright,
I’ll do the bravest thing I know,
And face the burning light.’
It’s hard to do; trust me, I know,
To turn from loneliness.
But always know you have a choice:
It’s not so odious.
You’re human life;
You’re special, dude.
And you’ve got lots to give.
So even when all’s dead and gone
You’ve got to try and live.