Crystalline eyes of red, blue, and green,
Stand watch in the fields why Ravens fly.
The souls of their ancestors,
Feeding on the remains of creation's thoughts.

In a time lost place with only themselves,
The solitude of darkness knows no freedoms.
For only the light of an unknown realm,
Will break their shackles.

For when a rose loses its last petal,
Is it no longer a beautiful flower?
Was it even beautiful in the first place?
So easily forgotten.

Crystalline eyes forged from the ashes of Gods,
Never knew the beauty of their fields.
Fields where roses once blossomed,
Now a desolate land of withered stems.