"What be thee? Creature of black and bluish hue? Who dares to torment my every waking dream?" Cried the broken, whose body hung limp from oak.
"Life, is my name, I am thy fate. As I am of all who breathe." Cried the demon, whose fangs bore Mark of fresh feeding.
"Life?" Cried the broken, astonishment like fear, carved upon their face.
"Of what life should be brought upon mine head? The loss of all those I hold dear?" A howling chuckle of innumerable suffering and pain echoed hence from scarlett jaws of freshly dead.
"All life, shall have that fate brought. Tis my make, to vanish in the end." Forth would come the darkness of the beginning, And light of its end. Shadow and light, whence life came. Of demon and angel, life is. For knoweth not, the mortals they hast damned.