The wheel of time turns incessant without showing the slightest compassion towards all those small and insignificant mortals who devote all their efforts to keep up with it.
The wheel of time turns implacable taking with it everything that stays in its path; the wheel turns and turns making the time to slip through our fingers, which is the only thing we will never be able to recover.
The wheel of time never goes back, but its cyclical and perfect nature brings us back, again and again, one of the most beautiful and mysterious existing things, the night.
Every day when the sun hides a very different light floods the city streets, every day when the sun hides everything changes. All the colours are dyed with countless new shades much darker and gloomier, the air becomes cooler and a strong wind causes to stagger even to the most serene hearts. Every day when the sun goes down the dim silvery light of the moon beautifies everything it touches.
Every night as darkness rises a different life takes over the streets, for those who are born of the shadows come to bath on the midnight lights.
Beautiful and melancholic creatures that walk through the dark streets when the moon shines high in the sky. Curious creatures that walk along with humans standing out for how their pale faces shine brightly lit by the streetlights, standing out for the serious and clams expression of their beautiful faces capable of arising the most intense and unexpected feelings in anyone who is trapped in their gaze, dangerous creatures that can steal a soul just with a brief glance.
The children of the shadows, the born of the night, are not under the control of the wheel of time. They remain eternal, patiently waiting for the time when the night would reign again to go out into the midnight lights.