But deep in the woods where the moonlight runs pale, I met a soft-spoken, warm-hearted angel.

The angel saw through the curse, through my shame and despair,
To the clown I once was, with a soul still aware.

They whispered, ''Your jokes were meant to heal pain,
But even kind hearts can get lost in the game.''

With a touch of their hand and a shimmer of light,
They lifted the curse like the dawn lifts the night.