Moon at Half Past Noon

My house aglow, a golden keep,
Its warmth I love, its light I seek.
Each screen, each lamp, a soft delight,
I bask within this endless night.

But every glow, each gleaming prize,
Dims the flame I hold inside.
My voice, a spark, I dare not free,
For shame—I love this cage, you see.

I long to speak, to let it blaze,
Yet fear the cost, the light I’d raze.
“Stay dim,” I hear, “or lose this glow,”
I trade my truth for what I know.

We choose our cells, we dim our flame,
The world’s a jail, we’re all the same.
What light we trade, what truth we hide,
For gilded cages where we reside.