In the dead of night, when all others are at rest, there remain a few that wander both aimlessly and with purpose. Some walk the streets because they choose, while others walk the streets because they have nowhere else to go. The stories of these drifters are etched into the gentle rays that surround them, as a grand chorus fills the sky above, a chorus that's powerful and radiant like the halos of the moon. _________________ This mess of notes has been sitting in my library for awhile. Thought I'd just let it free. Hope you enjoy.