we fear the cold blackness that night represents
and at dawn we watch the shadows flee the night
yet our pleasure is muted before life's final event
for we know that we face the eternal night
our fragile lives are pulled by the strings
of every impulse and desire
the cruel unknown may be the thing
that puts a cold blade to the wire
a crowded street with a thousand faces
may hold one with murder in his eyes
for death can hide in many different places
and shadows conceal the sharpest knives
at each corpse claimed by an act of violence
we think it's always "someone else"
but what if no-one else was sacrificed?
what if the victim was yourself?
contemplate your own morality