Sparkatale

He beats his fists against the glass
He screams to be released
He cries as he knows the darkness will pass
And from there he'll be deceased.

People stand on the other side
They watch with blackened eyes
In empty voices him they chide
For his painful, terrified cries.

Over his shoulders, it arrives
His body, it starts to shiver
On people like him it survives...
People who tremble; people who quiver.

He turns to the visitors peering
And sees their eyes now red
He yells silently, fearing
That before long, he'll be dead.

He's shaken, rattled, stricken blind
Beaten and battered, bleeding and dying
Panicking, flailing, unable to find
Anything, but he continues trying

There's nothing solid any more
There's nothing visible around
And suddenly he hits a floor
And suddenly there is no sound

The fragile child looks up to white
The visitors all have disappeared
And so he blackens again his sight
And forever will he lay here.

So much turmoil led him to think
That nothing would ever be okay
So much pain caused his heart to sink
And caused a painful final day.

His final chapter was a simple writing
He'd written just the day before.
A message in which he forgetfulness he was inviting.
It was on his bedroom door.

And now the world floods sapphire tears
And stars shine now gray and dim.
In just a period of sixteen years
They had and lost him.

And as they think of him and know
That he'll forever be sweetly asleep,
They wait for the answer to show
Of why this promise he just had to keep.

We miss him, oh... Our hearts are broken.
And we go on, him we'll never forget.
Thinking of his words that will go unspoken.
His event we'll forever resent.