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Click here~ Of all the things that make a person what or who they are
of all the wishes sent up to Me on the Evening Star
the saddest are the weaknesses that born of human greed
prevail against the common sense and now their voices plead.
Souls become beguiled by the images they crave
straying from the path which their own destiny engraved
and now they beg the goddesses or gods of their belief
to rescue them; to bring them back; to grant them some relief
how weary is the thankless role of us Immortal Ones
to serve, to mend, to give, to render Justice be undone
a heavy sigh a knowing smile; the granting of a boon
and then I go adragonback and hide behind the Moon ~