Oh waning moon, oh pale blue light,
That drowns us all, that paints the night,
We walk alone, we walk in fear,
Knowing well that danger’s near,
Yet what could threaten you might well ask,
No sign yet of death’s black mask,
Nought here but the ones who fell,
And grassy voids where now they dwell,
A stony remnant of their name,
For every spirit death will tame,
And take us to the depths below,
To this place where time will slow,
Until it slowly grinds to halt,
All are equal, none at fault,
And lie in slumber, deathly still,
Colder than the winters chill,
And so we run like frightened mice,
To the daylight, don’t think twice
Swearing never to return,
Til the mischief starts to burn…
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