The midnight that was the mystery of me
Is a strange one, both light from moon
And night that grew a darkness too soon
Nature confides naught of the dark ones left
Meant to destroy it's very inside, it's peek
So I confide in it's own mother of mine
For humans are not as reliable
As the garden set in stone, the trees of green
And yet, I might have tried a time in me
A time in history, I felt the need to cry
On someone elses tall tree, it's leaves
Covering me to an extent that made me believe
I was needed for the sake of them
I was there knightmare, and it was true
But plucked away from their sorrow, their pain
And their happiness lost me from my own
So now I walk for the purpose of only being
A home that was never mine would be lost
In a paradise only a night could find
But not mine
For I am my only midnight and in the end
It was the beginning of that being my only purpose