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On the Way to the Middle
It's midnight 
 The stars paint the solemn sky 
 Not even comparable 
 To a man with fingers of light 
 Children walk outside 
 Leaning towards the edge of the rye 
 Not even the miserable 
 Can ignore the wind's swift tide 
 
 It's midnight 
 The grass 
 So moist in its mass 
 Is the only bit of earth 
 That's keeping you by the hearth 
 Daring to tilt your head 
 Your mind wanders off to bed 
 And you dream 
 Amidst the scheme 
 
 It's midnight 
 Close your eyes and hear the fear 
 Seeping into your innocent skin 
 Barely seclude into your shell 
 Before your legs quickly find shelter 
 Hide from the shrill noises 
 And the scowls of the brave 
 Be one apart from 
 The willing friend of the dark 
 
 It's midnight 
 Walk beyond the man-drenched path 
 Cut your own way through the wilderness 
 Let the dim light of the moon 
 Be your only guide on the journey 
 Seek what you wish to find 
 
 It's midnight 
 Good morning
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