EliteArtists

He walked among the dust and dew, A stranger crowned with morning’s hue. Bright feathers hid beneath his guise, Yet sorrow burned behind his eyes. He saw her laugh, and time grew still, As souls remembered what they will. He knew the tale that doomed them all, The Watchers’ fall, their bitter thrall. Of Azazel he had memory deep, Whose passions lost made Heaven weep, And in the grip of love’s sweet flame, He felt his vow descend to shame. “Be damned,” he cried, “ye tyrant throne! Let fire claim my blood and bone! I’d rather burn, than love betray. Let Hell consume what Heaven slay!” Then from his back he tore each wing, Each silver quill, each shining string. He cast them down to mortal clay, To walk beside her, come what may. Now starlight mourns where once he soared, And silence writes what hearts ignored. For love, he chose the endless night, An angel fallen for the light.