You said
"I want to shine on my own".
I said
"Fair enough".
Then
I pointed to the night sky
- cold, starless, depressing -
and I said
"Yours".
"Work your magic".
You didn't shine.
You couldn't shine.
You lacked a spark.
And the night was still there
- cold, starless, depressing.
I gave you some of my fire
to kickstart you into stardom.
You became the sun.
For a while,
I smiled.
But now everyone's calling me
an arsonist
and
no one can see my flame
anymore.
