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She lifted one hand to the sun,
The other she raised to the moon,
She tilted her head back and sang,
The Song of the siren begun,

Her voice poured from within her,
The warmth of molten gold,
The sun’s hue burnished copper,
The moon turned to her bold,

Night and day embraced each other,
Both now becoming one,
Darkness reigned the skies above,
Crowned in a halo of fire,

The moon and the sun commenced dancing,
To the siren’s bewitching voice,
The orbs spun in passionate grace,
Their thoughts of nothing else,

Together briefly, when all was still,
Enraptured by the tune,
And then they parted dolefully,
The last refrain upon the air.

There once was a man who wanted to be God. He was an inventor of sorts, a genius. He created things that were amazing to all. He built cities that floated in the clouds, and automatons that mimicked ancient life forms, such as birds and horses. He was praised by the people that lived in his cities, virtual paradises. He had created an Eden for a destroyed world.
But he had yet to make the one thing that God alone could make. He would make another man. He wanted a son to pass on his legacy. A son stronger and better than any human ever made by God. He used all of his skill to create a being both human and automaton. He modeled his son after the angels.
When his son was born, he celebrated, for he had become like God. His son was strong and intelligent, impervious to the diseases that had plagued his world, graced with angelic wings modeled after his mechanical birds.
But even with all of this power given to the son by his father, the metal angel fell into despair. He questioned his existence. His father was unable to care for him any more that he did one of his inventions. In this his father was lacking God’s grace and love. The angel was only admired as a piece of his godlike father’s collection. And so he fell from Eden to the ruined Earth. He had no will to exist.