Do you know me? Do you know what it’s like to be weak? How can severity be weak? How can gentleness be strong? Your soul becomes Hell’s angel. You’re destined to appease the divine beings of your better nature. A demon of lust and yet their profane desires only condemn you.  They called you a master of singed hearts but their idiocy was mistaken for innocence. Their mistakes illuminate the naivete of skyfall. Your failure became the complicity of the worst sinners. 

They denied you their weapons and you no longer need them to shatter glass. Checking your own complexion just to find their reflection. Gaining the strength to put pieces back together and still unable to see behind the cracks. Running away from the scent of their jealous blood. Weakness is power’s shadow. Understand that it is difficult and question how the fragile can become vigor.

Your baby-soft skin turned to leather. All bitter, no sweet. Fingers turned to ice, melting into the soil of Kratos. Eyes of amber to gold. Chains ‘round your wrist to pearl. Buried in the blazing snow, meeting at the horizon. A rendezvous with the future. A ripple of power is forged from your hands. It echoed to the depths of summer. Retrieving the lost spring. Just a touch of power. 

I remember a time when Lucifer wanted the world. Peter should’ve taught him better. Michael warned him that desire was a sin. Wanting is what everyone needs. Man is such a fool; why are we saving him? Whose decision is that? The world is just a puzzle filled with forgotten memories. We use severity to unravel them. Who determines what power is? Who decides who has it? This is my world. I am the trench of understanding strength. Do you know that feeling? Power? Violence only leads to chaos. This is suffering. Pacifism provided me protection. Maybe you do know me. Or maybe we’re just strangers with the same memories.