The Watchers - Place Of Skulls

Born unto a place

Carried there from a point in space

Behind a distant sun

Shrieking winds and shifting sands they hide

Twist the golden strands

And in the chalice formed this creature man

Unto his daughters born

The giant’s roam and their eyes they shine

The years they fled

But the tail survived the skin they shed

Line of blood alive

The words are few and you know they thrive