The place not told where the mountains stand low and the ocean waves up high.
Where soil grows up, from the plants so deep,
And the clouds float low with the grass up steep.
The place not told where at dawn, the sun crawls down very slow,
And at dusk it creeps up from the depths below.
The place not told where in the eerie night, I stand alone, yet in a frantic fight.
With whom you ask, the most evil of things.
In this place not told, I fight the darkness within.