Nathrangking

I apologize to those who await my poems for missing a few. Life was bit hectic over the weekend. Without any more delay #31.

                                                 Starry Descent

River weeping beneath the light of the fallen huntress, your tributaries out to the sea are the ambassadors of all of the world. The broken kingdoms desolate and filled with only crying and the corpses of endless fallen are what remains after the madness that consumes those who lust for dominion took hold of so many deities turning them against one another. Oceans of blood ran through all of the realms sparing none and shaking the universe until it was ready to come apart. In the lower realms, even the vastness of the void is consumed by slaughter without end. Spirits sundered stare sightlessly into the darkness. Temples torn to the ground and reduced to little more than mounds of shattered stone and ash sigh in their final throes. Up in the heights palaces of those deities whose realms looked down on humanity are twisted and broken in ways that none will ever be able to heal. Those three who spun, measured, and sheared the fate of all of existence are lost forevermore. Primordials destroyed as they loosed all of their might in a war of carnage lay where they fell unburied and forgotten. Not even a proper dirge remains to mourn everything that is gone from this plane.    

On high a single star burns where shadow has covered the heavens in an impenetrable shroud and seems intent on smothering all below it. However, that fire grows more intense by the moment, and with it comes not an elegy for the dead, but something that brings with it illumination. A divinity aglow in ways that have never been known before descends. Her touch revitalizes earth and oceans fallen into melancholy. When she raises her voice in song the cosmos joins her in rising from ruin and despair. Denizens of the forests, mountains, rivers, and wilds wake from their nightmare remembering all that took place. Their wounds close and all is cleansed from the signs of war. She does not nor can she recall the destroyers, but into the tune, goes a strain that holds them as memories. Where they were she washes away the corruption and appears to humanity when life returns to them behind a veil. They hear the song flowing outward and ask what worship she asks. In silence, she returns to her watch, and in silence, she demands that those so harmed by those that they upraised not bow. Truest sovereign who will rule for all time your crown is this music that penetrates all souls.