• Through minights plight
    the moon shineks bright
    the nymphs dont hide
    from lunars gental eyes

    At waking dawn
    arises a faun
    who playes on his flute
    sweet rythmic toots

    During mid-days sun
    centaurs run
    their thundering hooves
    like hail on rooves

    At moons first rise
    shrouds darken the skies
    Ho-o flies down
    to sleep without a sound

    to begin agian
    as the earth still spins
    to see it all
    waiting to fall