When dark the paths of evening grow
And pale the light remains
The lands lay still apart from crows
Their hollow calls disdain
Those watchers and those walkers still
Upon the roads below
Who fight and strive to go at will
Beyond the heath plateau.
And I amongst those strivers stay;
A shadow in the moors,
Lonely wandering from the way
To open secret doors.
I find within a comfort spot;
A place to rest my head
And there I stay - it seems my lot
To rest until I'm dead.
It's safer here beneath this roof
Than walking the long road
And maybe I will see some proof
That lifts my heavy load.
Until that day I'll rest and wait
As my short time grows dim
And in me grows a rising hate
For life upon the rim.
The rim of all that it should be;
Of pain and struggles more.
I've settled for a tiny fee.
I'm all that I abhor.
And when the loathing grows too much
I'll set out once again
Before I turn a wraith; no touch
Will warm this hollow man.
And on the path once more I'll see
The struggles and survive.
I'll learn that it takes more for me
To feel and act alive.
As I do march through this long night,
By light of guiding Star,
I slowly see dawn's pale new light
Now glowing from afar.
From there, beyond the fresh green lands,
I see the shining sea
The sun does rise with open hands
And warmly welcomes me.