When it gets darker...
When the world has fallen deep into a slumber...
The other inhabitants of our time start to creep out of their dens.
Those who dwell in twilights of world of men.

Those whose voices remain unheard...
Those whose faces remain unseen...
Those whose existence belong to our unconsciousness for good.
Those who dwell away from sheen.

Forgotten, lost eternally.
They lurk in the dark, the backside of our lives.
They whisper old names in the winds.
Timeless or running out of time.

Hovering around us night-veiled,
They cast dark scents away into the air.
Feeding on our fears.
As the night grows darker and colder.
Sons of the darkness.

We encounter them in thin places.
Where the boundary between dark and light fades away.
Where fear is the slightest hope we own.
When our days are slowly numbered

'' And God saw the light, that it was good, and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night.''