For the dawn we always pray,

Though the light has given way,

And moaning fervently up high,

We beg the sun to light the sky.

But the sun has faded past,

As we knew it wouldn’t last,

And as the ancient breezes croon,

We must turn up to the moon.

Yes, the moon, her pale eye,

That watches us from jeweled skies,

Embrace her rays, my sorrowed friends,

For her light will never end.

That is what to us he told,

Long ago, from times so old,

And now we suffer in the deep,

No escape in death or sleep.

In our hearts our secrets burn,

And from the light we love, we turn,

In the quiet, scream in vain,

In the silence, wrapped in pain.