Filament

A crack. A flash. Then a blind, hard night.

No gentle fade. Just a sudden fright.

The kitchen plunged, a sharp, quick shock,

time stopped dead on the broken clock.

The filament, a wire, too tight,

it just gave up. Said goodnight.

Blew its last bright, hot breath,

a tiny, sudden, electric death.

Ozone scent, a burnt-out sigh,

left me blinking at a black sky.

One moment full, the next, just gone.

Too quick. No warning, no dawn.