The Darkling
Of dragon bones and ancient stones
All black, all night, all darkness.
Of pitch and web and long since dead
A thing not cruel but heartless.
In shade and shadow and blood and marrow,
Of spells, bewitchment and blight.
A thing of beauty, long lost to duty,
a thing of forever and flight
Guarder of souls, of goblins and trolls,
Keeper of secrets and lies.
The dead she will keep yet not mourn nor weep,
For she knows that a tear always dries.
