Her hair--black as a raven's breast--
mirrors the shadows resonating in her soul.

Her eyes--orbs of pure obsidian--
bespeak of mysteries more ancient than Stonehenge.
Her skin--softer than satin to the touch--
the color of the first snows on the plains of Vanaheim.

Her laughter--a haunting yet melodious tone--
echoes in triumph through the golden halls of Versailles.

Her power--mystical, mythical might--
crimson-nailed fingertips ablzae with ebon lightning
which ensnare my mind...
and send my senses tumbling into infinity.

A woman both malevolent and benevolent--
her passion composed of purest light...
her vengeance possessed of forbidding darkness.

All who dared to challenge her divine power...are no more.

I dare to challenge--
my mortal will against power incarnate...
I shall win.
"Never fear the blade...
save your fear
for the man who wields it.



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