The moon rose
The moon rose
They say that I’m a myth, a creature set on vengeance, and my battle cries are carried by the wolves…
I am none of these. I am the blade that scrapes away the scorch of day.
My hair, black as night, its length every inch the strength that ravishes my tall body and thick as fear.
My skin, white from the blood of the moon that consecrated me to destiny and carrying aspiration’s gems.
My eyes, ocean’s azure from the depths of pain that nature has wrought and bore, and clear as truth.
My armor, charred charcoal by the flames of the sun to purify a silver heart and impenetrable as diamond.
Given a bow and arrow and a path to follow, I set out at dark, covering the earth,
protecting the innocent, preserving morality in human hearts, opposing injustice.
Those who refuse to yield their power over the weak shall know fear and trembling, their world shall be tormented by storms.
Those who gaze into my eyes, dream of glory, yet it will elude them, as will contentment.
Those who curse my cause shall live in illusion, never discerning reality from visions.
Those who listen to this siren of dusk, shall be mesmerized… hypnotized by it.
The moon chooses whom to save, and my touch heals them.
Everywhere I go, I set not my feet on concrete, but on deserts, valleys and oceans.
Nature follows in my every step, rises at my command, defends my hindsight and covers my slumbering.
I am Aygül, daughter of night, mother of thunder, enchantress of hearts, empress of justice and rose of the moon.