When the night is silent,
the heart beats loudest.
The one so dear drifts farthest leaving your mind divided.
Should you keep guarded what is inside?
Should you lose your pride and let it all fly to the skies?
So clear is your heart
yet blank remains your mind.
Darkened by the fear of getting your fingers burnt.
But only when its darkest can we know what's brightest
When the furnace burns hottest, we get what's golden.