Those who don't find the warmth in light
Will go at night to drain it from blood,
Will turn from the good and do what they ought not.
It's hard to see in shadow, to distinguish foe
From friend, from the unknown or pretend.
The fever of one who offends often doesn't register hot.
Cold bones can be made warm again. I needn't explain.
But cold hearts can't thaw, for pain's a frost
To part the lost, separating them from thought.