Harpier cries tis time! Tis time!
Tis time for the dawn.
A blazing fiery light,
That comes at morn
In streaks of gold and strands of white
She rises, a figure of might.
She sits upon her mountain throne
Throughout the land, upon she shone
Time passes,
She looks down yonder,
What once was golden,
Now faded orange,
as it went under.
In comes,her knight-
Though not in shining armour,
To escort his lady back,
Back to her chamber
The knight then guards his mistress’ palace,
From those who seek harm and not solace.
His cool gaze sweeping the room,
Searching creatures of those who silently loom
Hours passed-
Yet nothing stirred
Not one creature,
Not even a bird
Then comes his mistress
All awake and alive
Strides to her knight
And softly cried-
“Harpier cries tis time! Tis time!
Tis time to shut thine eyes
Tis time to rest thy crown
Without worries nor sighs
The day has ended
Night reigns over
Tis time! Tis time!
Tis time for slumber.
