There Dances the Nighttime

Downward to there being a life, One's own in right is bated, Speaking outward cries of wise, Things have aghast if for tiny, The realm of this was his first, Once formality heads it off, And in the nighttime, it did hurt, This a waxing of a stampede, Although in silence I met within, A heard sound has obliged, That does take a ghast to give, Portrait of the insolence don, There a right, there a folly with, Destine the things one has, Chances left are the only gift, Youthful innocence pass on!