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To You, Author of My Fade

Fires in the Distance

Bearing his fangs, hopelessly locked in the stare
He comes with no legions tonight
Eyes flashing fire, burning with coldest of flames
Resolved to extinguish my light

I stand reflecting his gaze
Yet something confounds what I see
Not embers but ice, yet only a trace
Familiar only to me

Rise and peer at the stars
Somewhere among them he sleeps
Only I know who you are
And all of the horrors you keep

No trace of you, but your echoes fill my ears
I'll scale the stars, murderous when you appear
And slowly then from the heavens we'll descend
Hands wrapped around each other's throats until the end

Soul is severed from flesh, discarding the dimming wish of reprieve
Scholar in arts of erasure, promising not to deceive
Sights which bear no logic encircle my fragmented form
It seems you shall be the author of pages, I hoped I'd indelibly torn

I've read back through this tome
Through chapters of the endless war of our shared past
I'll make this volumemy own
When I inscribe: This starlit battle will be our last

Rise, and peer at the stars
Somewhere among them he sleeps
I've always known who you are
And that which forever binds you, to me