You burn with pride, a blazing crown,
And cast your glory halfway down.
You offer me a borrowed gleam,
To wear your light, to live your dream.
They call it love, that golden gleam,
But I am tired of your dream.
For what is love if I must be
A paler shape that mimics thee?
You rise and all the world takes note;
They write you songs, they learn by rote.
But me? They only praise my face
When I am bathed in your embrace.
I’ve played that role, taking on your fire,
But I am no echo of your bold desire.
It’s this, I’d rather not be bright
If I must steal another’s light.
Let others ache to share your flame,
To chase your warmth, to speak your name,
But none of them see what is true:
That all I am is made from you.
So keep your gold. I’ll take the gray.
I want to dim, to drift, and to decay.
To be myself alone, though small and plain.
A hollow stone, without your chain.
Let planets spin around your throne,
But I would rather be unknown.
Do not shine for me, bright one.
I want no light that comes from sun.
