When the cradle of midnight settles in these bones
and the night envelops,
untilizes us to it's whims
the frightened light signal fires
to desecrate her haloed covering.
Her eyes, indigo fire, draw us deeper
and section the heart to hold ourselves in the wake of war.
This world is the echo of a battlecry long past,
the fervent flight of an arrow to cut down the enemy
and loose the hounds of this guilded realm;
dogs of war that veil the neon glimpses of grandeur
that I live for.