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GARGOYLES
A gentle touch, A dying dream, Something heard, but nothing seen. The daylight fades from human eyes, The moonlight wakes, the spirits cry, For release granted only by the night. A gentle touch, A falling wing, To earth the dreams are settling. One alone wakes to hear the sound, Of silence breaking all around, But somehow, she knows, Knows that he's come, Even though they can't be one, He watches over her.
At night the gargoyles laugh, for what they know Near the apocalypse, man will become too slow And nights filled with darkness, will be ruled by one Gargoyles will be spared, under Earth's blazing sun
A creature of protection
Winged creatures crouching there, Longing to glide through the night's air, Atop buildings and roofs, we have no proof, But some of them seem to move. They guard by day, At night, they play, Roaming the skies of their home. While guarding, they seem so alone, The extent of their loneliness is somehow unknown. They long for acceptance, they long for respect, So far, not one has gotten it yet.
