The Dark Divine

They went by her smiles

Overlooking the tears in her eyes

Occasionally someone would wince at her scars

But she knew they were tattoos, imprints...

And the ink flowed in the blood of her veins

If others found her cold and distant

The smouldering gaze of her stares

Like scorched iron branded on flesh

It was because she had seen and felt those monsters hiding behind people

But it was in the ethereal solitude of night

When she had her musings with the Moon

You should have seen her

So soft, shining, a soothing aura

Radiating peace and bliss

In a world where she didn't need to pretend

Letting the tears stream seamlessly down her dimpled cheeks

She smiled in the abandonment where she found her true self

And while the world snoozed and snored,

In the light of a lone candle,

She continued to weave many more new dreams

And that's how she lived through each day

Awaiting the last vestiges of the day to fade away

And then the seductress of darkness could undress her soul

And let the ink spill forth into magnificent loops of verses

Who said, the Dark couldn't be Divine?

Poetry is testament enough...