She who is bathed in darkness
A Goddess, both in power and beauty
She who transcends the nightscape
Her ethereal energy presses the gloom
Carving a dangerous and unholy space
An invisible fortress where twilight is held in check
When the hands that rule the hours are stilled
A pause in the fabric that only she controls
Her gaze exceeds perspective
Alone she stands with outstretched arms
The damp earth her purchase
Aged and blackened elms, oaks, and yews, her minions
Towering above with not a leaf to be counted
Only the angry branches that conjure fear
The directionless discord, always moving in silence
Some hide in the wispy fog, others hover forebodingly
A purposeful creation of confusion, bewilderment, turmoil
Her comfort while surrounded by a shroud of malaise
She watches dark winds gathered in the arteries
Upon her command they wait, perpetually vigilant
Soldiers in the battle with all that is light
Ritualistically, she enters her nightly trance
The ravens appear, noisy and unyielding
The strongest ones open the flesh on her arms
Sharpened beaks and talons tear at her wrists
Like an unruly well, the blood erupts in torrents
Their dark bodies splattered and stained
A frenzy of crimson droplets fall like rain
Echoes reverberate as each drop tastes soil
Smoke rises and gathers across many species
Demonic creatures on four legs snort and shudder
Warriors armed with dark lances and blades
Wolves, winged nightmares, and teeth and claws
The gathering of all that are nothing
She who holds sway over this Legion
With a thrusting fierceness she drops to a knee
A hand comes forward as she points to the West
Thunderous pounding of movement
Evil, sets forth to wage it’s war upon mankind
A deadly smile, a mischevious look
It has begun…
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