There once was a child, innocent and pure,

Beaming with truth, but they called her liar,

There once was a world, cruel and desolate,

Broken from cold, but they blamed the fire.

There were once two gods, bold and bright,

Who snuck from the forgery late one night,

And into the realm they found their way,

And those they touched were forced to pay.

Don’t cry at night for the broken few,

Whom the gods hurt and made anew,

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Who’ve never met their godly host,

Its peace and comfort the ultimate jest,

The sun burns north, the moon kills west,

For it’s the tortured who inherit the sky,

With gaping wounds, they learn to fly.

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