Fallen One

Black ink on alabaster skin,

The symbols of a forgotten empire,

Fallen, crumbled into dust,

Her apparent youth belies the irrelevance.

Symbols twisted through time,

To become synonyms with hate and evil.

Once proud, now fallen,

A relic of a more innocent age,

Now stained with blood,

Covered in rust.

A dream of empire,

Built on bones, turned to nightmare,

We would do well to remember you,

To learn the lessons of your rise and fall.

But, alas, you are forgotten,

Eclipsed by your bastard child,

The circumstances of the birth,

Erased from our memories,

Leaving us doomed to repeat your mistakes.

Black ink on alabaster skin,

Cold hands of death around a neck.

You are forgotten, fallen one.

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Ian Sharman
Ian is a freelance writer and artist. He founded Orang Utan Comics Studio with Peter Rogers in 2006, writes for their Eagle Award Nominated anthology Eleventh Hour and regularly inks for Panini’s Marvel Heroes comic.