Blue moonlight, chirps of incessant waves
Deficit of solemn touch to the ground,
In between lay the legacy of thirteen candles.
A memory of thirteen brave souls is what they speak.
Curses of dark symphony, silhouette of vengeance,
Ride the wolves night and day to obliterate their sleep.
Brave prophecy of the yellow flame tames the beast in peace,
And guard the immortal desire to breath and bathe in seventh heaven.
Disgrace of empty silence drips on the feathers of snow-white wax,
Yet they burn dipped in conglomerate of thirsty valiant amber.
The last letter of infinite heartbeat weeps for the fallen spirit,
Embers of flickering flame illuminate the ashes of their resilient struggle.
Screams of distant lust and lure tear apart hues of tomorrow,
Yet these souls sleep and dream in the blessings of the thirteen candles.