I wrote this poem while I was camping. I know I said I wouldn't rhyme again, but I just felt that I had to. Another poem inspired by Dragons Change. I know Cole, I write about your lovely little story way too much.

Three moons orbit Pyrrhia,
One Moon circles my mind.
Three moons shine their light,
One Moon sends shivers through my spine.

I trusted the Moon with my soul,
But she hated me with her pain.
I trusted Moon with my heart,
But she couldn't see who I became.

She blamed me for the death,
She thought it was all my fault.
She's telling me what to do,
And it's tearing me apart.

We caught the murderer,
And we got all we could out of him.
Then she told me get her revenge,
And on that day my claws did sin.

She felt no regret for it,
And that's when I knew she had broke.
Moon had crossed to insanity.
The monster within her had awoke.

Moon was gone,
And I was lost.
Choosing sides that didn't exist,
I didn't realize I was my own boss.

Everyone hated me,
Aghast at what I've done,
They thought I myself was a monster.
But they forgot moons never see the sun

Darkstalker, an unforgettable name;
The devil of dragons itself.
I shall not let him be reawakened,
Because she wants more than just help.

I had lost the Moon,
And I had lost Flint's trust.
Alienating myself from him,
Just to do what I must

Or so I thought.

I had forgotten who I was,
I was lost and confused.
Her forcing me to do what she thought was right,
And it only made me feel abused.

I had lost my way,
I had almost lost Winter.
Feeling myself fade away,
Digging into me like a splinter.

I had to make a choice,
The Earth or the Night,
And I know who I would pick,
Because from her, I needed respite.

But now he hated me,
He thought I was slipping away.
Because he hated my old self,
Now I'm just trying to keep it at bay.

I had nothing to tell him,
No excuse to lie.
Only to say to him,
"Forgive me, please, I try."

As I was held in his embrace,
Crying out in desperation,
I noticed something I didn't before,
Sudden realization.

He was scared.
He was scared,
And I was too.

The world was insane.
Friends who lost their mind,
And all the bitter memories,
Pain we try to leave behind.

A friend's death,
A friend's pain.
A friend's hatred,
They all feel the same.

It all hurts.

Black and white,
What's wrong and what's right?
Dark and light,
How can I see without my own sight?

I keep on lying to myself,
Insisting I don't need help,
Saying the pain will go away by itself.

But it doesn't.

It hurts, in more ways than one.

My claws may have my own blood.
But at least the Blaze is cooler than it seems.

I've noticed a lot of poems I write have "I" as the first letter in their name. I call them "I poems", because they represent myself more than I'd care to admit.

It's amazing how much I feel I relate with Winter.