She is
The candle in the dark

And she is
Razor sharp

And she keeps herself
As company

No room for me
No rest for the silent

She keeps the council of the Wicked
Her voice becomes temptation, unbenknownst
To who she rules

She keeps the silence of the ages
A collection of broken hearts in a box

An offering
Laid bare

At my door

She keeps the council of the Wicked
A blood-soaked penance

That now, I can never forget

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Arios, in the year 134 MA.