Before the dark
Just a few come around
Some become Forgetfulness' food
Others stay alive
Until they come to Use.
After the dark, they all come
Rushing right in, for the battlefield
Is empty and unguarded.
Poor fellas, they are so naive;
Not knowing that's when the monsteress
Gains the most strength.
They rely on a shield called
'I will remember it till morning'
It's too weak in front of the monster;
It clearly knows that.
But it has pride, and it decieves
The weak and naive Ideas
That they can survive.
It gives them false hope,
But the monster is sly,
It pretends to be an ally;
But in the end,
Most of them die.
And thus the Battlefield of Mind
Is ridden of Ideas of all sorts
By the morning.