The City is of Night, but not of Sleep;
There sweet sleep is not for the weary brain;
The pitiless hours like years and ages creep
A night seems termless hell. This dreadful strain
Of thought breaks..

a dense forest we all live in. filled with dreary pitfull sadness, but only can a hero light the dusty town.
who is the most avarice to steal the light? who dares to shed it for all? it is up to you.