The realm of reality slips from the grasp
in the small hours of morning,
when the chill doth last.

When traveling through the night
by the waters raging,
you wish to see a light

There is always one to be found,
if you look sky ward
as you are oft bound

Walk, do not run, to the guiding force
that tugs at your heart
and through your blood, does course

Given to you from birth, a passage rite
belief handed down through generation
brings the clearer sight

Everything we were, and who we are
are an amalgamation
of our victories and scars.