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sometimes arise in the dark sparks of life. Such a burst ontological, they feed at night while in contrast. Through the sudden light, the night seems even darker yet. She earns a unique density and deep inviting to plunge by releasing all restraint.

Sparks are transient. Last night. They flutter from heart to heart, illuminate the dreams, pretend believing that they could persist in a dynamic eternity. Even when - lofty - they shine with their thousand flames, however they fail to break the force of the black night. It merely tolerate stardust. She knows that she alone remains and once extinguished, it will reign alone again and majestic.

The cinders are living elsewhere because the night spreads its mantle. In the light of day, they do not fit and do not seem to exist. This is because the darkness envelops the universe and seeps into the lower corners of the sparks conspicuous by their contradiction random.

The night ended - or so it is claimed - by disappearing. She keeps with her at the few flames that were able to believe could be overcome. The day came, there remains only the flickering flames and debris sneaky.

Soon the night comes, let it be pierced even by these useless stars who understood their futility. Some sometimes dare back in a few moments and artificial intelligence. Then they go out. It remains only at night.