An impostor...this bulb,
Crafted by man,
In my world stygian.
The filament,a yellow light strutting,
And a dim brightness feigning,
To erase my darkness,threatening.
But it's The Maker's will
It clings to me still,
You can't my brightness kill.
I live and hold mysteries,
To my bosom, fast,
Made more mysterious,
With the shadows you cast.
I am the treasurer of the Sun,
You can't render me undone.
But your efforts won't go in vain,
You'll be man's aphotic illusion,
Their might manifested,
When the bulb's turned off and on,
At will, again and again!
Chandni.
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