She came to me again last night,
the dark maiden of yesteryear.
She said it is time for us to join sides,
that our petty wars are no longer to be waged.
And there is something more important now anyway.
She tells me the devil is borne and his strength is growing evermore -
Her shroud of unassuming darkness shifts to a pale sort of gray.
The black purity in her eyes whispers of the last time the two joined sides.
She was on ours, one of us who died
merely in the attempt to tell others
to acknowledge this truth.
And now she explains to me
that this alone is why she haunts us
and our children are all hers.
They called her Lilith,
back in her own time -
and the creatures seeking refuge
found it within her arms.
She whispers secrets
laden with combined memories and lies
penetrating the isolation
of our individualistic society.
And this is why I write.
Her voice echoes in my mind
as she tells me of her quest
for these children borne of pure blood
lurking in the shadows -
and you are there as well -
for your grandchildren and great-grandchildren
echo from this void.
Even in death they are the light.
Even as death looms
it is up to us to fight.
