The sky sings a gentle tone. The sun above granted life, and a people walked emboldened. Their smiles are so bright, their cheers so great.
They stood at a tower. It is Hope given form. It is the foundation to all. It sings with the sky. Its voice enlightens all who hear it, all who believe in the fundamentals of Hope.
When night falls, the people enter and sing from within. Strapped to that source of pleasure and delight. The night brings horrors, older than stars and greater than the wind. The moon reflects darkness, a blinding black light. The people fear its song, what it might change.
Very few dare to enter the night to challenge its might. Even fewer dared to return from such suicide, arriving tranformed. Once light blue skin, only a pale white remained. Those joyful eyes now only drown in sorrow. Their laughter shattered as if their spirit were devoured.
They delve in the moons' dark light, thralled to its madness, absent from the lights ray. The people in fear cast them away into the world of night.