There is something out there, beyond all sight
It gathers in the storms of thought and whispers
Dread to the light, which trickles down into squalor
Poisoned with the doubt of purity, questioned then
By points obscured and now embittered to all
What ruin has befallen us, to bring us down so low
We pray one day the depths will rise
And swallow the light of the stars
Samuel Canerday 