One walked in gardens of infinite light, Woven from stars and the gold of the sun. One chose the shadows and plunged into night, Mourning the glory that he had undone. The first sang of mercy, of peace, and of grace, Folding white wings over rivers of glass. The second had fire burned into his face, Watching the ages of mortals fly past. The happy one smiled at the dawn of the world, Guiding the lost with a comforting hand. The fallen one wept as his dark wings unfurled, Casting his ash on the cold, bitter land. Yet sometimes they meet where the twilight is deep, Bound by the sky they both used to share. The blessed one prays for the broken to sleep, The ruined one dreams of the light that was there.
