As I was Passing Home

As I was passing home one stormy night,
my eyes they fell upon the strangest sight:
A child it seemed, sat there in gloomy dome
of sparkling water, wearing colors bright,
As I was passing home.

I then beseeched the child and made to say
why there she sat, when Night had taken Day,
and why she wore such colors far from mild
when all the world around was black and gray,
I then beseeched the child.

The child then turned and said with voice of bright,
"Why light the Day, when I can light the Night?
"Why love the Living, but exclude the dead
of soul, whose darkened hearts do need the Light?"
The child then turned and said.

I said to child of joy and innocence,
"Apply to this a bit of common sense!
For Darkness doth a million ranks employ
against who's power your shield is poor defense,"
I said to child of joy.

Raised she her pink umbrella, smiling, sighed,
That Darkness only wins should not we try.
As for the rain the shield she held repelled the
slightest chance her fire should not stay dry,
Raised she her pink umbrella.

As I was passing home, I bid good-night
and fortune to, in putting dark to flight.
And so I left her, there in gloomy dome
of sparkling water, staring down the night,
As I was passing home.