All truth passes through three stages: First, it is ridiculed, second it is violently opposed, and third, it is accepted as self-evident. -Arthur Schopenhauer

Darkness haunts and will pretend
That power trumps truth in the end.
Some will feed it even still,
From their souls, their broken will.

Dreams that starve it are of glass,
Fragile stems and blades of grass.
Hold them high they're sure to shatter.
Lock them up they cease to matter.

Bring them to a special place
To install reinforcing brace.
Tenacious care to make them swell,
To trounce the darkness, fears dispel.