Seclusion can be a beautiful thing,
Protected from the horrors of the night,
But the young spirit must run free,
A young wanderer is never alone for long.
You hear the horrors of the night,
But do you really see?
The truth behind the screams disturbs you,
Almost as much as the love that dares not speak its name.
The lone warrior searches through the night,
Hoping to find the bird that flew the nest,
The screams echo through his thoughts,
But only he alone can stop them,
And the black sheep will wander home, alone.