Of Light

A being of light,
Awoken from the eternal slumber,
Slowly does she rise,
The weight of dark sits heavily as the world softly cries.

The balance is off,
The scales have been tipped,
The dark is taking form,
She can feel it all this is why she has been reborn.

Dressed all in white
A belt of fire hung low on her hips
In a single sheath of glass as she has nothing to hide from the dark
Rests a knife with a blade of sun on darkness she will leave her mark

As the night comes look for the light,
This will be her and she is ready to fight.