Emptiness, Cold, and Darkness — just the start of it all,
Just the end of every tale, just oblivion and fall.
With the birth of Light, the Path begins to unfold,
There’s a motion onward, a chain of stories untold.
For on every road, whether coward or brave,
Each small step we take is a battle of light with the shade.
Is the Light even there? That’s the secret we hold.
Darkness is born where the Light reaches its end — so it’s told.
Is the Light even there? That’s the secret we hold.
Darkness is born where the Light reaches its end — so it’s told.
How is it that the same world is bestowed as a gift,
Given to people at birth, yet so rarely they lift
Their eyes to the truth: from the moment they’re born, each has their own sight,
One’s a rich child from day one, one’s a hero in fight.
One is sick, one is weak, one’s a coward, one’s bound,
No equality here, no matter which way we’re turned.
One’s born with mercy in heart, one’s just a cold tyrant’s sound,
But the only true calling: to stay on the path you’ve found.
And no matter the place, be it hell or a cell,
People, please, with each step, let kindness dwell.
Don’t extinguish that wondrous Light, don’t let the darkness swell,
Only this way, against all the foul, shall we stand and tell.
For on every road, whether coward or brave,
Each small step we take is a battle of light with the shade.
Is the Light even there? That’s the secret we hold.
Darkness is born where the Light reaches its end — so it’s told.
Is the Light even there? That’s the secret we held.
Darkness is born where the Light reaches its end — so it’s told.
To do good doesn’t need a mind vast and bold,
For the choice is always there: Light or the cold.
Is the Light even there? That’s the secret we hold.
Darkness is born where the Light reaches its end — so it’s told.