Many like you strive
To have a heart of gold.
Weak and malleable,
But appealing to hold.
I’d prefer a heart of obsidian.
Honest about its blackest sin,
Hardened against guilt and shame,
Forged in the fire,
Familiar with the flame.
Gold glitters and radiates
A magnificent light all its own.
Obsidian is so dark it makes gold,
Even more impressive to behold.
I’ve always been the black to your white.
The difference made striking when juxtaposed…
I suppose I’ve always admired the contrast in the past.
But now, the divide to the eye isn’t so cut and dry.
‘Cause your glow has illuminated my darkness,
Reflected light might never shine as bright,
But still, I’ve been given a vivid new brilliance.
It’s not only you who benefits from our friendship.
But me. You see, you make me better. Brighter.
My broken edges are sharp as scalpels,
And you’re surrounded by jewels.
Maybe bonds like this are made by fools,
Ignoring common sense and unspoken rules.
But I’m grateful for the naive attempt,
Because I’ll gladly be the moon to your sun,
And the night to your stars.