It was you.
You whom drew the blood of the universe and held it in your hand.
Painstakingly slicing glass across your wrist.

The affinity of terror.
Tears shining in the moonlight.
A heart shielded by memorials of the lost.

Archaism of culture.
Granting you the gift of hope.
Your spirit cries out for the truth, only to be given doubtful beliefs.

In your darkest times, I am your light.
Absolute and sincere.
The epitome of content.

In the light of freedom, I am your foreshadow.
Cynical and cruel
Binding your wings to keep you close.

Fly free with all your love.
Above me, away strong eagle.
Stay high, maybe in time.
You'll want to be mine.