by Nick Gisburne
Pulsating strings of shadow fuse and fade
A fragile fog, seductive, silver, grey
Its coalescing cores of jet and jade
Absorb the spectral strands as they decay
A thunderstorm, a fury, laced with light
Dissolves the poisoned pillars into flame
Awake, aware, the blazing phantoms fight
They crown their queen, a witch without a name
She smothers fate with fear to spin a spell
Her dragons, Blood and Magic, split the sky
Between them turns a crooked carousel
The universe, imperfect, lives to die
Creation cracks, a broken, twisted toy
A plaything she is destined to destroy
