They scatter stars
And take all light from laughter.
Across the skies they turn
summer's soft blues
Into stormy grays.
They delight in
All that is tainted with sin.
The land is blanketed with their shadows
As they tower over the earth
Waiting and watching for the right moment
To pounce on their prey.
And they race to do so,
For the Day draws near
When the Maker of Light will come again
And sweep away their shadows
And restore the stars to their place.