Coming out into the world the light is seen
Even as the sharpest tongue is so keen
As to slice into the spirit of ourselves
So on this despair he dwells
In darkness a tiny dot does shine
No greater sound does whine
Going on walking toward the growing light
Looking forward the tunnel is in sight
Every eye stands upon his shoulder
Staring at him trying to make him colder
Stopping him will not happen easily
Lofting upon his careful tranquility
Opressing his mind with fear
Veering him toward the everlasting seer
Easily he runs to the light for Love called him near
