In the darkest hours I still see my shade.
The empty streets sings in silence,
yet my shade never fades.
The sound of the animals ignite at midnight
The night walkers walk
along their shadows to do their bad deeds
that leads to many cries in the morning.
The owls are night watchers,
their shadows have forsaken them
My footsteps apprises the dead
as they make a lot of noise,
my shadow is the master of quietness, emotionless
to the fight of my enemies and restless
in guarding me in the darkness