She’s the last of the fairy tales. The mobs came with pitchforks and torches. The ashes of the golden era stains her skin. Her magic dwindled, wounded by the sins of man. She seeks not revenge, nor justice. She seeks punishment. I have been the guardian of her heart; A heart she feels she no longer needs. There will be a day where it beats again. Not this day. On this day she waits in the dark, Waiting for the day her memory is forgotten; The day her tragedy becomes a myth. On that day, reckoning will come To remind them their cruelty is unequalled By the spirit of a fallen star. On that day, I will be her harbinger. On that day, I will resurrect the memory They wished would stay buried in the depths. On that day, the hearts of man will cry for mercy, Only to fall upon deaf ears... Because I made a promise. Cross my heart, she’ll never die. Look your devil in her eyes.
Two withering souls Lost in downtown fog With their stories written in neon lights And their destinies tied together Gazing at each other Through the reflection Of blazing streetlights In hidden puddles Scattered around vacant parking lots Dancing like ghosts With honey on their tongues A million longing words Without ever uttering one A sleeping city tells their tale Of a longing moon and a loving sun