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Rated: E · Prose · Dark · #1742345
A supernatural prose piece of a longing to live outside the confines of society.
See them up high, their outside resembling my inside. The brethren of the dark, brotherhood of the rooftops, I feel them calling me this night, as before.
In the company of the Gargoyles, I find my happiness. Not as one who is meant to protect, but as a lonely monster carved in granite and stone, cold, with expressions of pain and rage. Forced in your world, my bitter cage.
My freak friends wipe my eyes when I weep
My freak fiends stroke my hair when I sleep
Bathe me in moonlight away from this life
In it I shed all my worry and strife

We watch in our sorrow, the devil's ways
It lives in the children of sunlight's rays
Inverted our roles to you children of day
You know not our beauty, you wish us away

My heart is embedded deep inside the stone
The Night is my solace, the towers, my throne
Alone and invisible I sit in the dark
Cold is my skin, my eyes hold the spark

Here in the company of Gargoyles I embrace my horned brothers. They smile to me in kindness, revealing their fangs and they quietly join me in my lunar bay. They bear the wings that I so desire to be free, but they allow me a most perfect friendship, regardless, the thing that I am. A freak of a different sort, although the image of their enemy, they welcome me to perch with them and be myself.

Rather I be a monster to monsters, than a beauty to your filth. Let me not walk in the paths of light and be false. I choose to creep down streets of dusk and let my heart be true to those who would care to look in the shadows.

Carve my agony in my skin, so that all who behold me will recoil in horror, not pity.
Guard my heart so deep in stone that none will ever touch it again.
Grant me the cold that I need to preserve my fragile memories, never to repeat.
Give to me bat wings and teeth like a beast, that I may be free to protect those kind to me.

The blue light of the moon will show you but a glimpse of what we are and you will perceive me as enigma. Do not follow where I rest, for you are not of my world, but of the world I had left in disgust and malcontent. Just let me go to my brothers. They await me in the dark ruins that your world has built. Destruction is your forte, but I see beauty in all that is broken. Therein lies my legacy.

True monsters are of the light and day. Their comely appearances hide their immorality, inside festering.
True angels are of the dark and night. They need not be seen to celebrate their fairness, inside glowing.

Find me where the night owl calls and the ruins tower.
Find me where the bats dance to usher in the 13th hour.
Find me in the Company of Gargoyles, the winds do soar.
Find me in your dreams alone and wake to find me no more...

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