The Fairy People

Last night,
we stood,
terrified;
by our mighty sacrifice.
Standing by,
in complete silence,
from our respect,
as our world shook,
through the fear.

The careful one,
by the end;
black hair hanging,
dead.
A single tear,
ran down her cheek.
And her wings,
shrivelled,
then.

Our feminine male,
stepped forward,
in his wrath.
The careful one,
grabbed him gently.
He was pulled back
to,
the dangers of,
reality.

Fire haired beauty,
was not distracted,
by this interaction.
Her eyes,
never,
left,
the scene;
as she floated,
there.

Fourth in line,
he stood.
The weird one,
in our,
faithful group.
He could watch,
but blocked his ears,
from the piercing,
wails.

Brunette,
boisterous,
beauty,
was on the ground,
heaving.
Too sensitive,
to watch,
these tragic,
proceedings.

At the,
other,
end of the line,
my curls,
were defying gravity.
There eyes,
met mine,
as I stood there,
violently wincing.

We were all there;
fairies of the mist.
We are,
darkness,
shot through,
with lightning,
But now,
also broken,
so imperfectly.

This 'cause;
the core,
of our,
band,
who should have been,
middle in,
our line,
was then,
tortured to the end.

The one,
who always took,
our pain,
before his.
The blonde haired,
prodigy,
who always laughed,
through the wind.
Hemet his finale.

That morning,
we stood as seven,
for the last,
time.
That night,
the last six,
watched,
the strongest,
disappear.

For one,
measly,
second,
we all felt alone.
Then we felt,
our throbbing hearts,
come together,
through,
the death of one.

Nothing,
left to do,
we launched,
from the rocky,
terrain,
into the,
darkened,
violet-shot,
sky.

And we,
together,
enlighten the night.
Our wings,
beat together,
just like our,
wounded,
mangled,
mingled hearts.