ClockworkShadow

I am the scorn of the moon; the sun’s race will see my power soon. The elders I have slain in the moonlight, their golden spires will be their gravesite. The sigil of the moon they burned onto my head   will be the last thing they see before they are dead. The armour I wear was part of my race, made of iron and steel, not of white lace. I only found peace in the night sky; the people who praised the sun thought I went awry. I was always searching for the moon's power, but the elders of the sun would only glower. They called me a heretic, now they are dead, my texts and scrolls they never read. My brothers and sisters, an enti

Your bones jut out Like metal Pale Skin pulled tight Like chain mail Blue veins interwoven Like cracks And black eyes A Soulless void Hidden in a Hollow shell

You came here For a safe haven But faced A firing squad

Your fall from grace Like a fall from The heavens The clouds try to Catch you But you fall through Their fingertips Only to come Crashing down Hard

Scars cross your back Wings cut And your demons Hold the blades

A combination to your heart A lock for your cage The key loss into an abyss Thank god for lock picks

The stars watch you Waiting for you For your turn to shine To rise and be greeted By endless space

I walk along the path alone as the ground cracks and groans like brittle bone

My heart is gold, though laced with cold. Full of the bold, even when it does fold. And despite being old, it will never grow mold.