Divided Unity

Storyteller in the Stars

Your friend used to write stories.

She said she was inspired by your old ones.

What stories do you have now?

*****

Listen, my readers, and you shall all soon know

Of the red strings of fate that destiny loves to sew

With engraved silver skulls, and gold threaded hem

To eternal solitude that she will never condemn

There once was an angel, let's name her after me

She had wings of navy, of violet, and of green

Specked with the stars on her plumage of night

Take from myself, always eager for a fight

With her was a demon, let's name him after another

He was golden and silver, unlike his crimson brother

His wings were like velvet, like satin, like silk

And his voice was like honey stirred in warm milk

They both didn't belong when they were instead students

The pair chugging venom with no hint of prudence

One adorned with bird skulls of silver and red

The other with a lion mane atop his head

One lived in a house that no mansion could rival

The other got by, never fought for survival

Duality called, for the soft versus rough

Unfinished drabbles where there is no such thing as enough

One time she was celestial, bound to two stars

And he was a hunter watching from afar

'til crystals were ripped out from his misshapen ribs

Taken aback even the one who had never been glib

It may have even took more than two entire books

For the longest running story of those two to be hooked

And from the water removed, til the scales became dry

Then til' scales were the trail from crying amber eyes

Of course, once he was a demon but not what you'd expect

From a place called the Underworld, he was an overworld reject

With barbs of pure violet and arrows in his chest

She, as a healer, did nothing short of her best

So the veteran succeeded, and beneath the ground fled

With him from the sorcerers who wanted his kind dead

Can't say we got much farther than that, after all

What is there to say when they both take the fall

And of course there were others, mainly for our homes

Detectives like him find killers like her alone

Spray painted tags or perhaps concealed fur

The difference is when my friend writes nothing splits him and her

I've told you no story, and I must apologize

But now I may carry one that stems from my mind

In the world of Arolatera, where things aren't perfect mirrors

Rather prophets of white hair and far too much liquor

Let's skip to the point, where they deem themselves soulmates

And move on to their wedding, for which it seems no one waits

One shard from his hand for his end by his own

Her acid for blood piercing carbonado bones

They kept him alive so she could let herself go

But in the chaos and the pain, that's what she'd never know

By the time she'd recovered she'd forgotten her mind

Or perhaps she'd just chosen to leave it behind

She trampled young loves and told them to leave it

Her words so much worse for those who couldn't believe it

Tears though not her own ended up starting a war

By the time it was too late it was time to settle scores

It took months to speak to him, to the tears he surrendered

Not a moment of his previous lives could he remember

Til' they became marionettes of their own accord

Mutual understanding became its own reward

Beneath the apple blossoms is where that me stands

She has wolverine fur all over and black claws from her hands

In one world she's damaged, in another she's safe

And in this one she wants to forget you in a cabernet