Guardian of Man
By: Anajiel

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Whisper to the wind, my children
Let me hear your call
For I am the mistress of dreams
My visions to be sought by all

Beg for pleasure, beg for pain
Plead for a nepenthe, I give the addiction
The wind is my consort, the stars are my muse
Children call me god, Adults call me fiction

My songs are echoed by the wandering souls
My teachings are given to the artists' muse
My touch is given to the pure of heart
My temptation given to those who evil choose

My footsteps fade in the sand
As the ocean bows to the sensation
Wooded lands beg for my blessing
Deserts cry for my salvation

My embrace belongs to the pure of heart
My comfort to the innocent, my torment to the damned
The artist trembles at my song, my touch
I am pure creation, I am the guardian of man