Sam Delaughter Light Pollution
And everyone's hair was lit under patches of waterI
stood there and watched them
I watched as the sad sparkle slowly wavered
I saw them as they gazed upon the inverted night sky
Pinpoints of nothingness set against a grand backdrop
of that ever familiar, half-hearted luminescence
The thick silver blotches sprawled out before them,
standing there on the hill
For once the light was stronger than the darkness
For once the fabricated finales so eagerly devoured
almost daily were not necessary, or were at least not
necessarily fabricated
I wonder if you realised this
you must have, for it was in that moment you chose to
sell your soul to god
For it was in that moment, and that one illuminated
moment only, when he really and truly held more to
offer you than the devil.
The next night, things were different
The hair wavered as I watched it
Jumped from one place to the next
And I watched the little red lights flick
On and off all over my world
You claim you never saw them
I wondered why would you lie like that?
They were real, weren't they?
Were they though?
Or were they just as fake as that power you sought the
night before, that joy, that vindication
For now, between the red blurs, when the focus stayed,
it was fixed on the usual scenery
Those devilish pinpoints had overgrown the godly
blotches
And you realised, I think, as you stood again in her
hand on the hill; you realised that you were wrong
How fruitless it was to trust such an intangible,
unfeasible, meaningless ideal
You sold your soul to god, and perhaps a new star
shines for it
A step closer to that inversion, yes
But at the same time fifty more... extinguished
Maybe only one of them seen
But gone all the same