When did the darkness and horrors of the night become better than the harshness of the morning light? We once rejoiced at first light. Now we only dance at night. The trumpet sounding the glory of the day is now the alarm we curse and ignore. The monsters of the night have evolved into comforts and the labors of the day have transformed into beasts. We are friends with the unknown and fear the demands of responsibility.
We are held captive until set free.
Our last hope is the soft light of the moon. Can only you show us the joy of the sun?
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