The beloved rising suns
Facing forth the millions of wondering sights,
Each face with a questionable look,
Bestowed upon the glistening, lighting skies.

A symbol of pure power,
Shinning with its entire simple splendor.
All that gives off life and power with its individual rays.
Each, providing a new time.

An alternative,
Above the darkened paths,
And whispering,
Tempting hollows of what are shadows.

Each rise and fall of the king,
Represents a full new blown out batter.
Then the knight awakes,
With its symbols and proud wounds,
To provide an alternate source of light—
To those whom need the guidance.