I am a nomad
I travel place to place
Finding homes in people instead of houses

I am a flower
Always blooming new petals, no matter how harsh the winter frost
And for once I am going to plant my roots
In you

Who would have thought,
How merciless a beast we could create.
Sure,
The weapons are scary,
But **** if that ring doesn't terrify.
Who's sighing?
Who's crying?
Who's dead?
At least you can be certain,
Of what's at the bottom of a barrel.
Unfortunately,
You never know,
Who or what,
Is at the end of the telephone.

The dusk is my maker
  My cradle, my keeper  
The dawn, my destroyer
  My coffin, my reaper
The night is my maiden
  My goddess, my muse
The day is my widow
  My black and my blues
The dark is my armor
  My sword and my shield
The light, my crusade
  My faith battlefield
The moon is my wolf
  My loner, my guide
The sun is my lion
  My tyrant, my pride
Casting these shadows
  In which I will hide
From the blinding egos
  That I'm still trapped inside