Good morning, High One, the moon is bright

The Queen is right-side up tonight

…

All is well, High One, and all is right

Save for the darkness on the edge of sight

…

Good morning, High One, the sun is dead

I’ve hungered enough, I’ll die for bread

…

Good night, High One, and spare your dread

I will fly where angels fear to tread

…

I fear her, Wise One: The Lady of the Shears

Atropos the Dreaded, raven free of feather

I wear no fabric with Clotho’s woven death

Only a belt with three bright gems

Sewn it with roses, and burned the stems

 (I will kiss no blade, save for Ankou’s breath)

Will I wait for thee, in the world of nether?

Where the water runs cold, and tears fall together

I will wait for thee, amidst my nascent fears

Look pass the sky in this moment, Dark One

Our banners are whipping in the wind

Brutally dancing before an empty stage

Behind the gates of Tartarus

Shrieking to the breath of Cerberus

While Azrael, unhearing, turns a scrawl-filled page

Writing, erasing, forgotten names of our kin

Pausing in his plight at the requiems within

…

Where is your name on the lines, Dark One?

…

No lines, Little One, my name is not sand

It’s written on the back of Azrael’s hand

**

Second stage… maybe I’ll come back to revise it once more. Thanks you guys, for reviewing the previous one - I really, really appreciated it! ^__^