The Room by Bumhe Han, 11

There was a room so dark

That with each passing moment

It is choked on its own blackness

Suspended in its own fearful reality

Chilly with no warmth of heartbeat

Upon entering it, no hope of the next second

But you could always enjoy there

The ignorant laugh—shrilling—that would lead to the inevitable destruction

But one day there came the Light

Budding flickering on a candle

Delivered by the One in white robe

The illumination in the middle of the pitch-darkness

Forming a beautiful aura shining silently

With each crest it rides

Was another delight for tomorrow

Now the room was bright almost to dazzle

The white spectrum softly touches

The boundary of windowsill sealed off before

Creating a gentle smear larger and larger

The room, though still lonely and shabby,

Was happy to cease exist as a permanent collapsing bleakness