One was cerebral
One was tall
Golden was her dress
Intricate; without flaw
Her hair was white
Spiraled; piled on top
With trinkets and coins
Within that tangled mop
The other like a mirror
Stoic was her face
With dress slightly tattered
Skin of an unknown race
Clothing like the night
Raven was her hair
Moonbeams and starlight
Graced this goddess fair
Together they stood
Still in their place
Together; never blinking
Staring face to face
Their role was clear
These daughters of the Fates
These muses of the artists
The sisters of the Gate
Never would they sleep
Forever; they would be
Gatekeepers to inspiration
Unlocking the world to me
One of the day
The other of night
Souls of the creators
To be their every sight
On this little island
Forever to stand
Whores to every artist
The souls of every man.
Copyright 2012 Spencer Paul Meyers
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