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Woe, oh, woe is me
As the rush of the wind
Or the surge of the sea,
Trapped forever between the dark and the light,
Eternally stuck in a land of twilight,
on the back of a horse,
a bucking black mare,
I cry out for help, but there’s nobody there.
The stench of fear
Not my own all around.
There’s death in the air
And blood on the ground.
And when I feel weak,
And can not hold on,
Just then, from the darkness,
Echoes a song.
A song of joy,
Trust,
Hope
LIGHT.
Relief is in sight.
That is the battle of the wrong and the right.