The last glimpse of light
of a dying sun
frozen in the endless night
is bright like the flames
on an hundred candles
burning in a dark room.

The flame of courage
warms the coldest day
between hail and ice
of a raging winter
coming down from the north
where blows the rage
of the queen of the darkness.

Her spires wind over the time
she and the king of hollow
who lives in the emptiness among the matter
in the nothing among time
in the chaos among life.

Behind every truth lies a lie
behind every light awaits a shadow
behind every victory beholds a defeat.

But in the end what really matter
is what we do every day, every minute
in the path of our life
so each defeat will become a triumph.

The light in the center
the one which wins the dark
lies in each single gesture we make.