I remember it like a dream.
He just...
appeared
as naturally as if he'd been there my whole life,
his eyes shinning with stolen starlight.
I shied away at first.
I was scared of him.
Of the stories they wove
and the demon they created.
Until he whispered to me in the dead of night,
the stars all but gone,
and he whispered of what he really was.
He wove a story of angels and wars,
of light and happiness.
But also of sorrow,
and a father who never understood,
of siblings who outcast him for his belief.
As he spoke gently of his tale,
I listened.
I listened as they made him a pariah,
how he knew that he could never live in that place.
And how he made a home all for himself,
and other lost souls like him.
Then,
with eyes holding unshed tears,
he told me about a girl
that he'd waited a millennia for.
He told me
that she was perfect and beautiful and was destined to be his.
But he didn't believe in destiny.
Until he met me.
When I kissed him,
every star flared into life among the sky.
Some call him the creator of Sin.
Most call him the Devil.
But I,
I call him the Light-Bringer.
YOU ARE READING
When The Blood Ran Black
PoetryWhen my demon decided it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch as bloodied claws pierced my skin and shadows leaked through my eyes in black teardrops. It wanted out, and I was content to let it roam. >>>&g...
