oh, beautiful naga
cry me a river of tears
and wash me in your scales
shimmering, glowing, folding
your dreams neatly into one
there where you slither through
the remains of our imagination
I still know what you are, you and your kind
between the hazy shades of the world, the harsh words of forget
the fairy tales of the stars and the children of the coldest void
deemed powerless, deconstructed to the core
oh, beautiful naga
cry me a river of silver
fold me up into your skin
shimmering, glowing, scaled
as the place where dreams do not die
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