As the spark of nox, we confer a gift, a world of dreams in which you drift.
An endowment that all things need, the hail of rest to which mortals heed.
We bring you sleep in return for peace, you give us earth when day is ceased.
For darkness falls, consuming day while all the world just melts away.
The turning, spinning of the light, is silenced, somber during night.
When all the creatures stop their stir, and the cares of day become a blur.
All of us who live at night, are guided by the moon lit sight
of forest’s trees, soft moss, and leaves. The rocks, dirt, and sweet precious earth.
Those who bask in day-lit paths, are blistered by its brutal wrath.
Blazing day without relent, we’re shadowed from sun’s punishment.
Playing below a film of light, we’re nimble like a forest sprite.
We’re cunning like the elven souls, hiding in their grassy knolls.
Grace we have like phoenix flight, our passions, like their fiery plight.
Our beauty, like the siren cast, our anger, like their wailing blast.
With the rule of creatures named, we make the force of night untamed.
Through the soil, sea, and air, we taint the night, our darkened lair.
All is well in the nocturnal world, though to you, no such events unfurl.