Lyra and her daemon moved through the darkening hall, taking care to keep to one side, out of sight of the kitchen.

A daemon’s after me
darkening my door,
No clue if it’s bad or good
It lingers in the hall
While I try to get food
It never enters my kitchen
Sometimes I wonder why
It just suddenly starts bitchin’
Pacing just out of sight.
I suppose I should care more
When it’s moved to such stress
So I guess I’ll ask the daemon
why it vexes me with such care.

Her name is Lyra,
she’s neither good nor bad.
She says she keeps an eye out
For the goodness to be made
She likes to keep things neutral
and I’m the last one undecided.
Through the years the daemons battled
Each on the side of time
Taking souls for one goal:
Resetting the world for all time.
I guess that’s a good enough reason
I didn’t probe much further.
I asked why she didn’t enter my kitchen
And she just laughed?