Her thoughts are as dark as a moonless sky, and as hollow as the river that flows through her, cold, deadly. She searches for the stars that are there to guide, each one lost, there presence ever haunting. So what became of the girl whose moon forgot to shine? Whose stars were sightless, with no constellations to find. What became of the girl whose night bled into day? Whose light was out of reach, no sunshine on her grey. Her flowers never bloomed, her apples began to rot. Her sun had left her hopeful, but he seemed to have forgot, The girl whose moon was that of beauty, the ying to his yang. The girl with wolves below her, beasts that worshiped and sang. So you could say that she was simply scorched by the sun and his flame, Forever a new moon to this darkness, her fullness no man again shall claim.