The sun is sinking quickly far beyond the Western hills,
The dark of night is creeping up the vale;
Soon it will engulf me, in a silent, winter's still;
The light of day is growing weak and frail.
The shadowfolk are waking, dancing welcome to the night;
The gateway to their world is open wide;
They're calling me to join them in the land beyond the light,
And leave behind me all the dreams that died.
The inner light has faded to a glimmer on my mind,
The faintest of distractions from the black;
I wait upon the threshold, I turn and look behind,
But still there is no voice to call me back.
1993-10-30