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Vampiress


Fine Art America

With the smile on her face, holding stick of fortune, she walks with the remaining fragile honor of her with head high and sword outta scabbard ready to kiss blood. Life is tough and people are mean, life isn’t fair and she has to deal with all that sickness outside, people ejaculating the hatred inside. But no, she isn’t like that. There is something else behind her eyes; that smile’s containing the fire, burning inside, perfectly. No one can see the rising tides; No one can see the approaching night. For them she is so beautiful, so perfect and lovable, they admire her and she is exemplary, her happiness jealous others often though its only their own happiness that's causes of their pain.
But there is someone in the inside who hear whispers. Who fires up those dark flames and keep the factory of mystery running. Unfairness, broken dreams, unhappiness and open wounds are her fuel. The queen of the dark, the true her is bold, she is powerful, she has the power to consume everything outside. She often takes over and burns all the reds and blues and again goes in after ruining the ruins, charging the uncharged. Waiting for the climax of episode and show its magic to show the power of her existence, with long teeth, dark eyes, feathers as dark as raven’s and eves as red as blood itself, her heart beats like it will open up the chest and the fire its containing inside will burn down those humongous ego’s mountains in an instant & taking all the useless beatings and throw them deep in valleys of hell; letting the red flow, letting the darkness sweep over and crown it.
She, once the queen of fairies, now rules everywhere she want. She destroyed the limit itself and transformed not because she has to but when the goodness was taken advantage of and killed by someone she trusted, the blood spilled in her feet and raised to her head, this gave her new powers, power to fly to new boundaries and make whatever she want her.
In those layers of darkness and power, there is that fairy shivering because of all the useless idiotic races of “what and who?” And “whatsoever”. In such pump and shows daily thousands souls looses their pride and feed their souls to devils. Unlike those weaklings, she is strong, she will be strong. With the sword of divine, she’ll cut the fire with fire and bath with the unholy blood.
Divine is there sitting on his seat of Justice, waiting for the results interestingly. Sometimes nature wonders if these wars between weaklings ever end. If there will be any warlord to hold the vampires from the deep hell up. Will ever the fairy may rise again, playing harps, dreaming and surrounded with happiness and love.
Dedicated to the countless Dark Warriors

May the time soon be on your side.
Casper

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