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Rated: · Other · Emotional · #1577656
lost in thought
The silver lined feathers sprout from her left shoulder.

They grow up, out, around, and back to the ground, and the beauty they conceal is more blinding than the sun.

You cannot see her face, not all of it at least.

Her aura of sliver and gold twists around her and her wing, the angelic beauty is only half complete.

The pool of blood hath dawned the left wing, the wing of terror and death.

Bathed in the blood of a thousand and one angels it's power over death is unmatched.

The skeleton like wing, featherless and daunting flinches with every ray of light that strikes it.

Chain mail rest over the chest of this unimaginable beauty, covered in purple roses the color of Caeser, the color or power.

Not even Caeser wore this color, and these roses as well as this beauty does.

A skin tight undergarment runs down the length of both her arms.

On her right wrist is a mark of the holy father, the cross his son was crucified on.

On the other wrist lays the sign of the serpents, of the prince of darkness, of Beelzebub, an inscription of "666" rolls across her left wrist.

Unscathed palms and wrinkleless skin lay upon her hands, as if life has gone by without lifting a finger.

Dangling from her hip her great sword is empowered with good and evil.

What was once a pure and golden blade, is now a gnarled, twisted, and black razor, that has cut away at you.

The blade that was once there for you, for your pain, to smite that which brought you harm, now brings the most harm to you.

Used to protect you and keep the internal demons at bay, now cuts the leashes of these demons and sets the wolves to your now weak beating heart.

The muse you once revered, has hacked away at your loving heart.

This muse, once a beautiful and unmatched foe, has now turned on that it once inspired.

It's blade of gnarled death and destruction has found its way to your heart and begins to twist tearing everything that is attached to it.

Your love, and your pain will end soon give it time, the muse of retribution is at hand and will bring you to the fates.
© Copyright 2009 Grim Citadel (grim_citadel at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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