From the depths, it calls our name.

We flail into the silence, as it screams in our ear,

It sings the anthem that carries us along and haunts our very dream.

And through the dark, we proclaim

And through the toil, we go without fear.

War is ruin and peace is evergreen,

But through the Night and its miserable fashion,

Our storm, our inspiration, drowns out the noise and drawls out the desire,

Leaving nothing behind but regret and decay.

Our minds spin, blazing like a fire ashen,

Like a lighthouse in our storm, our ideas illuminate the sky from the spire,

And helps to lead us through an adventure of another day.

Photo by Evgeni Tcherkasski on Unsplash