Brilliant shines the day.
The world seems good and right.
Then the shadows lengthen
And along comes the night.

Lurking in the darkness
Are many things unseen.
But instead of looking
We close our eyes and dream.

What do the shadows harbor
That we must never see?
And which does the hiding,
The lurker or the one that dreams?

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Valnuary, in the year 412 AF.