When winter's wind whispers deep
where long shadows in dreams keep
a heart used to its painful call

And tortured soul finding rest
In every turn and every test
Does not find peace in the late Lightfall.

But fall it must and fall it will
within the valley and upon the hill
and all will surrender and all will see

Dark ones in shadow and cold
Growing restless and old
Do not remember what it is to be free.

As light drips down the broken crown
And spirit wakes with youthful sound
And weapons fall that now seem vain
Will blackened wings yet remain?

What creature from this cocoon
shall emerge after the full moon?
In what way will it live at all
after the renewal of Lightfall?