Darkling

 

I swallow, in the whole, 

 fashion 

 consuming in haunting and hypnotic lullabies. 

One of counted toppled world's

Beneathe the underside of many skies. 

She inhales, chest's burdens 

  maximizes her wing-span,

a paradigm of fire, 

                            Other-worldly. 

Soldierly. Hampered by the restless weight 

  burden of all their weight, 

the mind an antique den. 

An Asylum.

A War-Zone. 

Her Heart is as wide as all Deep. 

  Containing Everything. 

She holds it- bares it, 

  Mother of containment. 

Womb of Shadows, 

Womb of Light, 

Intricate vessel

  misunderstood 

  and

a creature of another kind. 

Epitome. 

Creature of whole. 

Interacting 

With all the roles and personage

Carnage and love concaved. 

Absorbing 

  the coal of death's forgiving grave,

and the colour of Light's fractional maze. 

She is the Creature of Epitome. 

A Darkling bestowed God's grace. 

She is the death of your old life 

And the smile on your child's face.