The Despairing Ones
Her thoughts black, bitter-tasting from despair.
Darkness had smote her, changing angel kind
to demon ranked. Gnarled, wrinkled, her form pared
from shadow. Sunken eyes like coal remind
of the truth she’s now embraced. This fallen
thing, this harridan, this once glorious
being who once shined from within, awakens
with terrible purpose. Bat winged, scabrous,
she drips pestilence from her fingernails.
Bent, stuffed into a sack of skin-looking
material whose translucence showed nails
securing it in place. She’s cowering,
because that nightmare woman’s blinded by sight
of my angelic soul’s cascading light.
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There are 12 Despairing Ones and they are the villains in a novel I’ve half written. They reside in the same fantasy universe as the rest of characters; they just dwell on the opposite side of the Mortal Veil.
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