The chill of nightime falls,
and the twilight spirits calls,
slowely break you down.

And the weary path you walk,
hearing the nightime voices talk,
and dangers all around.

But still your feet keep going,
and yet your pace still isn't slowing,
your soul shakes with the depth of fear.

You can't see a step you make,
you can't hear the breaths you take,
little knowing an angel's near.

And as you swiftly walk ahead,
the thought races through your head,
"An evil hasn't yet touched me..."

And thought it gives you hope,
and as through the black you quickly grope,
the angel watching you, you cannot see.

And as he's warding of the harm,
with a strong wing and arm,
you stumble and you fall.

And yet little did you know,
that as you lay there in the snow,
that angels watch over all.

You feel to rise once more,
and though death's knocking at your door,
the angel's fighting away.

When you see the dusky light,
you know you've won the fight,
the angel fades with the light of day.