Where there is a truth, there is light.

When the son goes down,
when the darkness emerges and shadows the land,
spirit is set free.
When the gentle tides shimmered through the soft moon lights,
when the moving clouds passed away,
that which once concealed the secrets lying under the souls
arises from the deep,
confronted is what we called melancholy,
the root of the root, sky of the sky.
I wandered through those secrets,
I faced them with courage,
yet again,
I cringed.