Where are the sentinels as the night grows cold? Where are the sentinels as I now grow old? Why does life’s burden seem much heavier now? No angels to sing, no fans here to bow.
I long for the sentinels sirens’ songs. I search for the sentinels-I searched for so long. The sentinel flees to a faraway place beyond memory, beyond feeling, beyond time, between space. The smooth flawless appearance of the sentinels face.
My halcyon days are far behind. Who’s left here to guide me?
Who else can I find?
The hands of the sentinel hold me still, how they bind. As I grope in the darkness for a flash of green light, I grow blind, my eyes dim, I have lost my first sight.
You are gone, I am here. The dark night. The still fear. The long journey. Sudden flight. Farewell Sentinel, Sentinel, Sentinel from the Light.
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