Graceful hunter holds a golden spear
Or a butcher grasps a bleeding cleaver
Self proclaimed heirs make a stand and dare
Really only want to put their hands on shares
No emotions but fight or flight
Shadows owe their lifes to light
Legionaries of darkness starve at night
Craving for the moon to throw crumbs
The sun had failed or did not care to hide
Sunrise, high noon and sunset are their tides
Relentlessly the stars are being scavenged
Till they fall alone or just being pushed
From careless skies