A silver moon hangs overhead

In the fields the wet grass sings

And throughout the land of another’s hand

The sound of sunlight sings

It is dark today

Clouds distort the skies

But do not fear the shadows here

And do not suffer their lies

You hear a song of night’s end

You hear them whisper to the abyss

The morning will come soon, farewell to the moon

The night which none will miss

So let them speak

It is this that they believe

The golden face, the sun and space

For the future we shall grieve

Look up to the north

Walk past the golden fields

The deep blue stream, the eternal dream

And see what morning yields

- Tyler Dosaj