Winterborn Siren

by Ava Gemini

With hair like frost, eyes like winter sky, 

Absalome walks, a demon, passing by. 

Her beauty chills, a siren's song in white, 

A twisted angel bathed in moonlit plight.

No heart of warmth, no tear will ever fall, 

Her gaze unflinching, watching empires fall. 

She sees in mortals fleeting sparks of flame, 

To fuel her purpose, whispered in her name.

A touch that soothes, a promise gently spun, 

But webs of deceit within her words are spun. 

She dances close, a predator in disguise, 

With honeyed smiles and secrets in her eyes.

For Absalome seeks power, ever bold, 

No throne too distant, no story left untold. 

She climbs the ladder, built on souls she's claimed, 

And laughs as mortals, blindly, are unnamed.

But in the mirror's depths, a truth ignites, 

A flicker of doubt, a shadow that bites. 

Is victory hollow, bought with borrowed might? 

Can beauty bloom in endless, barren night?