As dusk falls,
The green of trees replaced by shade,
silhouttes against the graying sky.
The world around, simplified.
With withered daylight amore
pushed aside, the heart is
forced into a prison mist.
Nighttime chill
permeates the gloom,
consuming thoughts of happiness,
trapping Frolic's tune
in a cage of shadows.
Admist the twilight gloom,
admist fright and uncertainty,
a steadfast spirit lives.
Constantly spinning, re-creating
the delicate threads of reason.
Though vicious fog envelops,
the soul within bolsters
an eternal hope--
though confined to the
faint radiance of stars--
for warmth once again.
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