• She rose like nightchords
    piercing upon the winds.
    She was an allure to the gloom
    and Her power was bequeathed by despair.

    Her grace knew no bounds
    and Her raven hair gleamed in the radiance
    like maidens of crepuscule
    billowing in the breeze.

    But Her reign was abandoned
    devoid of reciprocity,
    this association,
    this end.

    In Her dark hour
    She found hope in eclipse
    hope in Lucifer,
    confidence in the inferno.

    But Her reign wilted
    like a black flower,
    She knew it was cessation,
    her mind
    tortured,
    insane,
    bereft of life.