I look at this world--
a fused mass of millions of candles
Each struggling to kill itself to light the surrounding
Each a flexible statue of wax moulded by predecessors,
waiting to fuse into the great nothingness called "everyone"
Each an epitome of serenity spreading its dull fuzzy light...
And my eyes search for a spark of light
Just a tiny spark, sudden and dangerous,
A spark that could grow into an explosion
or a firework display; but grow, nevertheless
A rebel to stand out of the crowd
and relish the coronation of solitude...
For, centuries spent under the monotonous sun
can't compare with the pleasure granted by a momentary flash of lightning!!