In a world of darkness,
He finds an escape in the night,
This one place in which he cherishes as light.
So as the shroud of night surrounds him,
He will not fear,
He knew his fate before it grew near.
This is not the darkness that comes from all the world and its crimes,
But a whispering wind,
waving through the chimes.
It's a beautiful flower blooming in the moon's brightness,
A feather gracefully floating with all its lightness.
It is his escape.
His never-ending night.