I kneeled,

In the light,

Of my perfect dream,

Took the hand of happiness,

That fickle master,

Golden light,

Reflecting off tears,

Of unfiltered joy,

Flowing down,

A perfect face.

But now light,

Only burns,

Starting a cancer,

In the heart,

My sight is gone,

Only memories,

Of the tower,

No maiden tears to heal,

For I cannot be rescued,

Go away,

Just let me HURT.

I belong to the night,

Her sable skirts,

Is my only shelter,

Diana will hunt,

Insomnia my only company,

I only covet,

One gift of the light,

Stealing those wavelengths,

Of sound,

And enough left,

Of this septic soul,

To interpret it.

I can have no new consort,

My humanity,

Is disfigured,

A beast,

 With no redeeming magic,

The shattering of hope,

Comes with the weeping,

Of sanguineous tears,

From broken vessels,

Of the body.

I kneel now,

In the grace,

Of the Goddess,

Holding her hand,

Please give me the will,

To at least crawl.

Her whispered blessings,

Of three furry deities,

Warriors,

Who will always walk,

With me,

Disfigured or pure.

Of Two friends,

May they help me see,

One to take my hand,

One to show me,

That two together can hurt,

As much

As two apart.

Of one chance,

To move out of,

The night,

May it not have come,

Or shall I beg,

To be cleansed by fire,

Of all these years,

And fill my eyes, again,

If only with death.