DEATH OF DARKNESS
A SWAN QUEEN POEM
By Googlekins
Hundreds. Thousands. Perhaps hundreds of thousands have fallen at my hand.
Hearts still beating with innocent ignorance.
Bones of my hand spider web out as my nails become talons; squeezing. Crushing.
I watch with detached interest as life leaves the face of the soul said heart belongs to.
I feel nothing more than Passionate darkness enveloping my very being.
More than who I am. Deeper than who I became. What devils had made me.
Destiny, fate, and fortune molded an emptiness of what used to be undiluted virtue.
Void of all else, a vengeful, insatiable wrath.
Void. Empty.
All it took was a tiny spark. a miniscule illumination that set a fire blazing through that void.
Lit up the emptiness brighter than a star on a moonless night.
The smile. She smiled. Every wall crumbled.
Recoiled from the impact. I needed the intensity of hatred. She stole that.
I was nothing without it.
I Tried to run. She followed. I lashed out. She stood fast. A soldier. A light; in my comforting void.
a prophesied savior. Crashing through my nothingness.
A prophesied Savior. Embodiment of Hope.
My resistance falters.