Hovering above the darkness waiting for the chance to peek,

Lending hope unto the hopeless when it seems out of reach,

Writing plots for many stories with each ending so unique,

Not for bragging or pretending and frowns upon your critique,

 

Beginnings humble to the world silent giant in the night,

Never absent barely noticed for the fear of the light,

Deception running from the corners of a room that you know,

Even in the touching epic lend the night a bag to glow,

 

Early spring was his ascendance from the warmness of the dark,

To a place that will replace him for his affection for the dark,

Mercenary that is wary from a fight that never ends,

Pagan goddess in September is the present for that trend,

 

Malice has outlasted many and we see the farness heed,

Pompous in the way we hinder everything in moods of glee,

Embers blowing from the build up to the point that it must be,

Emptied from the holding chamber to the surface of the sea,

 

Barren ship upon the thrashing thundering in times of greed,

Take your glory and replace it with the wool of foreign beasts,

Read the eyes that tell us nothing but the role that thunder trusts,

Beg for mercy while you thirst for everything that’s on the bus,

 

Trading blows while stuck in battle gloating in the turning tides,

Knowing that the first replacement is ejected for its pride,

Branding our speculation on the surface of the sun,

Makeshift were the signs upon the stage that had a smoking gun,