Once forth it comes anew,
a small light within my hand,
yet all over, all too soon;
never such a light will gain.
Retreat I must and make no stand.
Why not I with will so strong,
be broken apart all so often.
Until so late, I will see once more,
this glimmer of happiness,
too foolish, thy be no more.
So wether such light be on I;
yet never so often light be mine,
question the strength of whose it be.
Never once more be said but this:
This small light to never be me.
