Dark Twilight

The sun, a dying ember, bleeds in the west,

Staining the clouds a bruised and fading red.

No gentle twilight whispers secrets blessed,

Just shadows lengthening, a world left for dead.

The air hangs heavy, thick with coming night,

No fireflies dance, no crickets chirp their tune.

A stifling silence holds the waning light,

A hungry darkness gathers, draped in gloom.

The wind, a mournful sigh, through branches sighs,

Stark silhouettes etched against the dying day.

A lonely howl, a predator's hungry cries,

Echo in the canyons, where shadows hold sway.

The ancient forest, once a verdant crown,

Now stands like ghosts, their leaves long withered brown.

Twisted branches claw at the fading sky,

As darkness creeps in, with a hungry, mournful cry.

A lone figure walks, cloaked in weathered grey,

Her eyes, like embers, reflecting fading light.

A weary traveler on a desolate way,

Haunted by memories, shrouded in endless night.

She clutches the hilt of a sword, worn and keen,

A constant reminder of battles lost and won.

The weight of grief etched in lines, unseen,

Scars on her spirit, battles fought and outrun.

The wind whispers secrets, tales of a fallen land,

Where laughter once echoed, now choked by despair.

The Blight's touch defiled, with a skeletal hand,

Leaving emptiness hollow, a world beyond repair.

A flicker of movement, a shape in the gloom,

Unnatural grace, a predator's silent stride.

Eyes burning ember, emerging from the tomb

Of the dying twilight, where nightmares reside.

Fear, a serpent, coils tight in her chest,

But resolve like steel, in her weary heart remains.

No surrender, no peace for the souls unblessed,

Just a warrior's spirit, fueled by burning chains.

She raises her sword, a beacon in the night,

A defiant challenge against the coming storm.

Though darkness consumes, a flickering, fragile light,

Her spirit undying, weathering the norm.

The creature lunges, a monstrous, twisted form,

Claws like lightning, thirsting for her soul.

A dance macabre, on this desolate norm,

Courage a weapon, to make the darkness whole.

She fights with the fury of a dying star,

Dodging shadows, each breath a rasping plea.

The crumbling stones, remnants of who they are,

Become her allies, a desperate strategy.

With a final push, fueled by a burning desire,

She sends the beast tumbling, a strangled, echoing cry.

Silence descends, a pyre of fading fire,

Leaving her trembling, beneath the inky sky.

The victory hollow, a bittersweet taste,

In this realm of shadows, where hope seems forlorn.

But a single star pierces the inky waste,

A promise of dawn, when a new day is born.

She stands tall, battered, defiant and strong,

A testament to resilience, a flame in the night.

The dark twilight fades, where shadows belong,

And the embers of hope rekindle with morning's light.The sun bleeds out, a crimson tear,

In bruised and battered skies,

No gentle hush, no birdsong clear,

Just shadows that arise.

The twilight deepens, swallows light,

A hungry, inky shroud,

No stars yet pierce the coming night,

Only whispers, lost and loud.

The wind moans low, a mournful sigh,

Through skeletal, stark trees,

A chill creeps in, a lonely cry,

On this haunted, dying breeze.

The world suspends, a held-in breath,

Between the fading day,

And secrets whispered close to death,

In twilight's fading gray.The sun, a wounded beast, bleeds crimson down,

Staining the sky with twilight's bitter frown.

No gentle hush descends, no birdsong rings,

Just whispers dark on skeletal, bare wings.

The wind, a mournful dirge, through dead trees moans,

Unearthing secrets night and day disowns.

A chill descends, a harbinger of dread,

The air grows thick, with shadows to be fed.

A lone figure stands, a silhouette bold,

Against the dying light, a story untold.

Eyes that mirror twilight's fading gleam,

Haunted by horrors in a shattered dream.

A sword, worn down, whispers tales of strife,

Of battles fought to keep the spark of life.

But hope, a fragile thing, withers away,

As darkness gathers, hungrier each day.

A flicker of movement, a monstrous form,

Born of the twilight, a harbinger of storm.

Eyes glow amber, a hunger deep within,

A twisted nightmare, where shadows begin.

Fear, a cold serpent, coils tight in her chest,

But defiance burns, a fire in her breast.

No meek surrender, no tear to be shed,

For the living fight on, even when hope is dead.

She stands her ground, a warrior's stance,

Against the night's embrace, a fleeting chance.

Steel meets claw, a desperate, brutal fight,

In the fading twilight, bathed in dying light.

With every parry, a flicker of light returns,

Hope rekindled, as the darkness yearns.

A final lunge, a desperate, winning blow,

The creature falls, consumed by twilight's glow.

Silence descends, heavy and profound,

But in the distance, a star's light is found.

A promise whispered, on the dying breeze,

That even in darkness, the dawn may appease.