Wandering in darkness for so long had cursed his sight
so that, now, the dream he'd waited for is much too warm and bright.
Pallid and deficient from the cruel, relentless night,
he finds danger in the comfort of his long-awaited light.
Darkness, though his captor, was an ally and a boon.
It enshrouded him in shadows unbeknownst to star and moon.
Ever did it love him with a heart, of granite, hewn,
but they both knew well this weight would surely suffocate him soon.
Loneliness was mitigated; weakness was ignored.
Though the pain was not eliminated, peace was his reward.
Little did he know that, when his senses were restored,
he would find that he could not survive them of his own accord.
Faith assured that solace would be coming to his eyes
and that all the years of marching underneath the blackened skies
certainly would lead him to his badly needed prize
in a land where, yet, the sun has not neglected to arise.
Darkness, though--his home, now, for so many countless years--
had endeared itself to him once he had conquered all his fears.
Now that he's adapted and made peace with all his peers,
he is far from peace and safety in the brightened, new frontiers.
Skin is seared and smoldered by the fiercely burning rays,
and his eyes can hardly open as the light assails his gaze.
Now, he must adapt, again, lest he be set ablaze
by the flames that he's awaited to enlighten all his days.
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