“Above this crystal pool are rows of lighted candles, flames flickering in the wind. Carved orange lanterns line the crags.
O, ignisfatuus,
foolish fire.
O, the lantern
in the mire.
Spirits quaking
with the light,
demon darkness,
far too bright.
Orange whispers,
yellow cries;
ever-haunting,
numb good-byes.
Good-bye, O childhood;
Farewell, my nickel joys.”