Under the stars,
when the morning already arose.
Under darkness, a new light grows.
Exposing itself. In the dark there is a rose.
All on my own,
penning the thoughts of my dome.
Angels calling me home,
demons not leaving me alone.
Questioning my livelihood and sanity.
If people knew the me real,
a lot of them wouldn't be proud of me.
What a tragedy!
Crossing through borders,
waiting for what lurks on the other side.
You don't know what you might face,
till the new battles are what you find.
But I've placed all of my worth in that rose.
I hope it's brave enough to grow,
and cuts down the darkness with it's thorns.
In reference to the first stanza,
each line is on it's feet. They stand out!
In the dark, I realize I'm not a kid anymore.
But a rose at times. I must develop,
and fully grow. The old petals die out,
and the new ones will show.
Solo fears, I fear less of them,
feeling less on my own.
The moonlight beckons. She calls.
Open my sights to hope,
to those fears, I close the doors.
Midnight, she calls.
I suppose, I can no longer ignore.
I suppose, I must go.
I suppose, all things call for your soul.
I suppose, for me, the darkness I fear it no more.
Midnight, she calls.
So loud that everything seems to be low.
At the lowest point of my life, my soul tends to glow.
Midnight, she calls.
So loud that it echoes in tiny corners, till it breaks. It has a lot to show us.
Still Midnight, she calls.
In the solo moments I have to listen
out for wisdom.
Feeling in the dark corners of myself, to know what is missing.
The solo Midnight, she always calls. But I'm not solo anymore.
