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She is a frayed wonder, Wide-eyed lover
Cannot contain her subtle thunder.
Loud as the tide, Keeps to her own pride,
Yet she believes her heart is dry.

Faithful, Though betrays harsh, quick, and deadly.

Leaves those unwanted.

Afraid of herself, and others aswell,
She cannot keep faith in her own or anyone else.
Yet...
Her moods as the changing moon,
She learns to love, she learns to hate.
She learns that not all faith is coded.
Daughter of the Moon, dancer among the stars.
The rain has washed away her pain,
And one remains by her side, though perhaps undeserving,
but she loves her all the same.


Love... is that what makes us all mortal?
Or what keeps us from becoming demons...?

(. _.) ...