Fireflies danced around her sleepless head to a variation of miscellaneous symphonies so beautifully played by the wind trickling raindrops against her pane. This sweet percussion was so delightfully engaged with the howling sounds of a thousand violins performing melodies of madness. Each light has her mesmerized with eyes wide open. Her eyes follow the slender foxtrots lighting the corners of the concrete walls that hold her captive. Right through the glamorous show of shimmering lights, one burning bulb flutters and blinks across, in a failing endeavor to escape. She carefully analyzes the way this struggling glow of radiance might be picturing what it could feel like to shine as bright as the others. What has caused this light to fade? What has brought the energy ever growing inside to leap forth into darkness. No, it has not perished. Energy never fades. Yet the form it has taken is yet to be unearthed. What face does it hide behind; what faith is it that makes what it believes to be so absolute? Lost in thought as she could relate, maybe radiance is just not of her value. Maybe all she has built is but a hut next to mansions. Or is it possible that all the radiance she retains is trapped in this skin of a person she has so engulfed herself inside?