Death is promised to the bee Who's sting protects the colony. Was its life worth nothing more Than honey for the queen? Life is a branch and it is a dove, Handcrafted by confusing love. Sign language is our reply, When church bells make no sound. In hollow towers and empty hives, We craved sweetness with a fear of heights. Was it all just a grain of sand In an hourglass? The smartest thing I've ever learned Is that I don't have all the answers, Just a little light to call my own. Though it pales in comparison To the overarching shadows, A speck of light can reignite the sun And swallow darkness whole. Death is a cold, blindfolded kiss. It is the finger pressed upon our lips. It puts an unwanted emphasis On how we should have lived. Life is a gorgeous, broken gift. Six billion+ pieces waiting to be fixed. Love letters that were never signed, Sent to where we live. But the sweetest thing I've ever heard Is that I don't have to have the answers, Just a little light to call my own. Though it pales in comparison To the overarching shadows, A speck of light can reignite the sun And swallow darkness whole.