"That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape--the world or the end of it?"

-Alaska Young


As Nyx takes over her realm, 
As mist clings to the treetops, 
As icy winds blow her brunette locks, 
She walks. 


A smile painted on her rosy lips,
A twinkle in her blue eyes, 
She appreciates the gentle beauty of darkness, 
She walks. 


And there stands in the shadows, 
The God of Death in his harsh beauty, 
Looking at her with regret, 
As she walks. 


For a monster waits for her, 
In the envelopes of mists and darkness, 
To quench his thirst through her innocence, 
As she walks. 


And Death watches ruefully, 
As tears escape through her blue eyes, 
And screams tear out through her rosy lips, 
As the monster shreds her innocence, as she died. 


As the monster walks away, satisfied, 
Death flutters down to her, 
Kneeling down beside her, remembering her beautiful face, 
As she walked. 


-Unknown.