Avatar of Sorrow
by Derek

Where once you stood, I, now stand beside.
My hands outstretched to the ghost of your face.
This place that you would not call home, I reside.
I am an Avatar . . . I am the Avatar in disgrace.

Once, I enfolded you in the darkest of arms,
and inhaled, deeply, of your innocent scent.
I kept you from all save the darkest of harms,
and beckoned you down the Path of Descent.

And, now, under the butchering blade of Time,
where all Things must pass in eventual surrender,
I must lose myself, and my memories of you:
The Citadel lies shattered . . . it has no defender.

The earth is broken, its face despoiled in blood.
The skies are rent--torn completely asunder;
the winds in screaming shreds becry their pain;
I lay amidst The Wastes, a figure of wicked wonder.

I was the forsaking parent, and the forsaken child . . .
We were not, and yet, shall we always be one.
We are the Balance broken of the civil and the wild . . .
We were the parting of the Moon and the Sun.

From the chants and dirges of our unchangeable ways,
long, will echo the songs of our sighs and screams.
But pine as we may for the Dawn of those Brighter Days,
know that our Paths were crafted of Nightmares' dreams.

Our lips are joined to seal the Final Pact . . .
Our hands entwine in rapture to possess.
A kiss, a farewell, the last despairing act--
where we recognize this as our last caress.

Shadow folds its wings around me: A haze of gloom.
Loss fixes its unyielding gaze upon me.
Past, Present, Future: Their imaginings consume.
What shall come next? It forces me to wonder . . .
Will I be the Avatar of Rapture . . . or the Avatar of Doom?