Facing light, a cycle is found.
Neither knowing why nor how
Springs softest embrace, white wings
Of summer light, angels in gold sing
The hymns that lead me here
Neither a place to head or fear

As daylight dies a cycle is found
Both warm and cool, melancholy surrounds
Folding beneath in certain joy
All play, jokes, smiles so coy
These Hymns that lead me here
Both a place to head and fear

So come Dawn, come Dusk.
Remove this sinful rust
From this artists fingers
So let emotions on them linger
And flow into the world clearly
For all or none to treasure dearly.