From shadows to sunshine,
throughout the land,
all gather round
to stand hand in hand.
Enemies and rivals
sway to and fro,
their voices all gather
as one to echo,
"Thank you for the chance
to live in this Age,
to bask in its glory,
to dance up on stage.
Thank you for the years,
for what's come and gone,
all that's in between
the right and the wrong.
Thank you the Creators,
of this Age of Midnight.
Where good has met evil
and hatched a twilight."
Now as their praises,
all quiet down.
Rivalries are remembered
by those around.
Holding hands turn to fists
and smiles to frowns.
Peace crumbles to dust,
and hope for it drowns.

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Ios, in the year 204 MA.