An Angel's last note

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The note of the last of the archangels.

Submitted: July 03, 2015

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Submitted: July 03, 2015

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If by chance the light of day does not shine,

then by no means am I to be.

For I live in the light; I call it mine.

The darkness cowers for fear of me,

But let it be for I am the last of the lost.

And with such pain I bear the strength of the old.

My wings seen by hidden eyes,

My stages, disguises, pure lies.

My death has been told,

A fire grown cold.

 

The light, my burden, my power, my soul

I see all that happens in these the cursed realms.

My death with and from a demonic bull,

But yet neither died on hells helms.

His shadow rises once again to taunt me,

The arrival of his being assured and our fight, certain.

The realms split, no longer his past domain,

The seven of prime lack fire, their bane.

With his life I rise again,

Mine and his, both will be slain.

 

A sacrifice for a victory, no greater cost,

But a cost all to common.

My allies souls poorly lost,

And my sanity all but gone.

The sights my eyes have seen and for them they burned,

Years I have not seen with my own eyes.

My death a possibility to real,

My identity I struggle to conceal.

For the death of me is the loss of light,

I will leave it not to those weak of fright.

 

While I stand the angels fight,

By heaven now, and all our might,

I shall end this demon of fright.

 

Heaven's light and hell's fire,

An ancient bond, our old desire.

The angels of new shall see the old,

With my death dies the greats and angel's speak,

Our voice will be broken so our spirits be weak.

My light shines ever brighter,

As the darkness grows ever darker.

An omnipresent factor of a time long gone,

I am the very essence.

The light of dawn.


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