Here comes the night. And wind tears at the trees, Stripping them bare of every leaf. In this enormous city of disbelief There dwells a corner of warmth and ease.
Where all is pleasant and secure, Where we sleep, unaware and free, Of how the cold burns bitterly Beyond the curtained window's frame so sure.
We sleep, wrapped up in love's embrace, That banishes the dark and dread, With you beside me, safe from spread Of evil—in those warm and loving hands' grace.
Yet this refuge will not last forever. An hour will come, a day will break, When wind is loosed, when they will shake This door from hinges—now or never.
It will scatter without strain All of us, warmth, peace, and rest, And only those who loved the best Will carry love through loss and pain.
No matter how the wind may labor, Breaking, crushing, tearing down, The sealed-up heart will not succumb or drown— It is a fortress no gale can savor.
When outer shelter falls and breaks, Only the fortress deep within Can save us from the storm, the spin Of blood and war, whatever fate now makes.
But for now—we are like children sleeping Sweetly, peacefully, without a care, And through the night's dark, restless air The clock keeps time, its rhythm keeping.
