I often find myself longing for the long lost days of warm candlelight and precious moments of illumination.
Now, day never ends as light persists through the form of white glass bulbs and thrumming electricity;
Chasing shadows like our ancestors chased down the earth: scavenging the world and claiming unwarranted dominion.
We live so fast, so insistent, through these longer days; seeking action and excitement as artificial as these fluorescent lights,
Ironic in that time and opportunity have spread us thin and made us cold;
In that times with fleeting days meant living hard and dying young but dying strong;
Dying with memories of countless periods of crackling bonfires and warm candlelight.
Only to be juxtaposed with our memories of cold, compact bulbs and towering streetlights, attempting to defy the night.
— bring me back to those simple days of fire