Over royal tombs and palace walls,
moonlit dreams spread whispers of the rising sun.

Come to me says the sirens song
Come to me, lay down your sword, lay down your shield
Come to me

Shadowy figures gather within the dark spots of her eyes
to share secrets of why she can't see.
Vision stolen by the greatest of thieves,
capable of stealing things that aren't yours to begin with;
Nor anyone elses.

But when the stars come down to kiss goodnight
and she rests her head on the softest planets,
sprawling across galaxies, wrapping her body-less soul in a warm nebula,
the sweetest dreams will cradle her new born thoughts,
tugging at the strings to her wings,
drowning out every siren that sings and brings their destruction
with out having to touch them.

Standing on rooftops chanting paganisms toward the heavens
like a heathen taunting the sky fire.
And it comes,
like the rain from home it comes;
It always does.

And as the gentle sunrise graces her face,
lighting up and opening the windows to her soul
I see that it's burning cyan-hazel flames;
Make moonlit dreams become sun soaked realities