Zero: Number Eleven

 Black ink scours the lands

In this technological wasteland

I've built for myself thus far,

And although I'm young

I have years of power, of growth

And I wonder how long it will take

My brother, the sworn hero

To take me out himself,

Once and for all?

I don't mind these dark powers

I seem to have been born with,

Nor the knowledge I can contain

But he swears that it is wrong

And I am wrong

And everything of wrong is me.

If I've ever felt emotion

It was taken from me

Shortly after birth.

And now, I am void,

My powers are chaos itself,

And everything is black.

The void calls to me as a familiar,

Asking me to help it spread

It's voluminous, blank wings

And I concur that it is

Tragic to be so useful

Yet so frowned upon.

I am cold.

I am efficient.

I am Zero.

Number Four: Celestia

Blinded by the darkness
How could I ever see the light again
In any of your faces,
Your bright smiles now erased

And the flowers, the trees
That once bound me are fled
From my crooked, petrifying,
Horrific gaze

My fangs dig deep into the souls
Of the damned and the forgotten
The wretched, the wicked
As I am become now

The pull of the darkness
Tendrils tying me down
Until I give in to this
Madness, this spiral of anger

It pulls me deeper and deeper
Into this black abyss and whispers
Into me, the future, past, and present
Until my sanity drips from my veins

Cut me open, and let it bleed
More and more until there's
Not enough evil to fill my body;
My heart, my soul -

Or perhaps the worst punishment
Is the mercy of it all;
To let me live with this insanity
Every. Single. Full moon.

Number Three: Iselta(i)n(e)

My sisters' words run deep
In my patient grace
And as the corruption leaves me,
Only the good is left behind.

Do not let my appearance fool you,
For I am danger. I am a predator.
And if you're on my bad side,
I can hunt you down with a wave of my hand.

My well-manicured nails and my
Perfectly placed flower crown
Can not define who or what I am
To myself or to the world.

I might be good, I may
Have the patience that saints dream of,
And my poise and collected attitude
Might lead you astray,

But don't let it seduce you,
Your charming human ways -
So gullible, so naive.
Let me be the wisdom that saves you.

I can be your light,
Your golden rays of hope
On the worst day of your mortal lives.
Or perhaps my sisters are more your type?

Losing Grip

What do you want me to tell you?
That my arm shook as I kept myself
From grabbing and pulling all of you
Into my life?

That my skin could not bear life,
Without your electric touch again?
That the daemon who held my soul
Only amplified my want to hold your hand?

That I almost lost control of myself
From being in your magnetic presence;
Your lies and expressions telling
What I wanted to hear whispered within?

You read me like a book on a shelf
To you, the shiniest, newest, brightest novel
You'd ever seen before you.
But did you even hold the key to anything,

Or was it just to my most primal wants;
Imagining your hands up and down my waist,
My back, my hips, and your tongue
Telling me all I'd ever want to hear from you?

Are other people truly just a game,
A conquest, a vague interest to your shallow mind?
And once you had won me over,
Would you have set me on your shelf of lies?

Compulsion

Give me your hand, your wrist;
Your trusting flesh under my own
Shaking grasp for the first time,
Wondering if you'll understand
That I still want to be your friend.
"You may not remember
What has happened here today."
My hopeful, alcoholic words filling out
The gaps in your weakened mind.

My spiral eyes in your conscious,
Gently caressing and brushing away
The surface thoughts to sweeten
Them with nothing but a dream.

My friend, my savior, my hope -
Could you even forgive me for
The monster you have released
From my ever-caged hunger
You have never believed in?
When my teeth, sharpened and
Bursting forth with anticipation
Finally grazed your sickly sweet,
Savory, necessary fluids?

My sanity slowly dripping away
Before your unbelieving sight,
My tongue pressed against
Your bloody, pulsing wrist.

"It will only sting for a moment."
My honeyed, silken words lean
Against your mental shields and
Soak through as a mist moving
Through a slightly cracked window.
The relief on your face tells me,
It will all be okay, in the end.
And I bite, and you don't scream,
The sting only for a brief moment.

My face contorted slightly,
Though you can not pinpoint how;
Or how to describe the dissonance
Of loving to lose so much blood.

Could the aftermath of such a
Mesmerizing, cathartic dance
Truly ruin what we once had?
I drink, until I no longer care.
The blood fills my near empty
Passages, veins filling with
Your softly singeing, tingling
Life essence until I am awake.
I see you on the ground, half dead.

"Well, aren't you a tough one?"
My voice rings out, cold and
Emotionless, conniving, with a
Disgusting clarity of tone.

I crouch down closer to your
Beautiful, cold features.
The marks tell a story of which
I no longer remember.
The snow begins to cover you.
I lift you up, wondering;
My friend, my savior, my hope -
Could you ever forgive me
For being half alive, forever?

Narcissist

Read me like a book
Your eyes pierced my soul
As a spider faintly crawls
Under a wooden door frame

But the more words spoken
The more you grew,
Your soft skin crawling
Into human upstanding

Shifting, reading, waiting
Your never ending thoughts
But no guilt, no conscience
To brush your hunt aside

Your viscous, umber venom
Dripping on the carpet
I had laid out to marry on
With no mind to stop.

Remind me that I let you in
Remind me this was my doing
Innocence you feigned upon
Your shifting, smug smile

Tell me that I'm wrong
The way you dance,
You flirt, you charm
Is not for your amusement

Roll the dice, poke the bear
Forget that I am something more
So I may come to conscious
Once you are faced away

The Seven

Long forgotten in age we see monsters taller than the trees,
Seeking souls and blood and meat of those humans who had just arrived.
Be it hunger or be greed, the unwritten rite to hunt with such fangs and teeth,
Or be it forethought to start such a feast, lest they grow too numerous.
Primal fear soaked in most deep into our ancestors marrow,
Keeping close and constant watch for the monsters that would harrow.
Those who had the time on the days, where the sun rose high and bright,
Prayed to the creature who born them here for salvation most true and clear.

And on one feverish afternoon they finally received an answer.
A portal opened before the sun, like a moving slab of stone,
And they looked in such reverent horror as the sun become a back lit hole.
From this yawning portal came a pillar white hot with flame.
It came to rest quite soundlessly before the gathered crowd.
"To those whose burn as bright as I rest your hands upon me,
I shall awaken your hidden crystal eyes, and bestow the gift of Magic."
Seven brave stepped to the task, hands untouched by its fire.

And as they felt the unsung song they each knew of its power.
The Pillar vanished shortly after, as the sun returned to its true light,
And the Seven fought seven beasts in turn to prove this magic would bring delight.
So, the humans gained fangs of their own, of so many shapes and severity,
Driving their foes to deeper dark while they all the while caused calamity.
And so A new age was born from this, humanity bathed in hope.
But as such things go could it truly last?
ALL humans could do, was hope.

~Wedding Mini Hiatus~

I will not be posting any new writing today, because I am getting married this coming Friday, September 21st. Ozymandias will not be posting this coming weekend either, since he is my Man of Honor. I hope everyone who reads this has a wonderful two weeks while waiting for us to scribble our thoughts onto this interdimensional web again.

Sincerely,
Miskatonic Madeleine