Ruin

What a pretty baby, they all said when she was born.

What a beautiful little child.

The blood running from their eyes is much prettier,

she thinks, admiring her handiwork

I have never seen such ruthless bloodshed,
Then when I watch my Ruin do her thing.
Her anger is truly unmatched, she said,
A statement she’s more than happy to fling.

In truth, I am jealous of her freedom,
Not needing orders to then execute.
She’ll grind away in the Colosseum,
Truly, her killing has no substitute.

I admire her stubborn ruthlessness,
But stubbornness can get trying at times.
Her enthusiasm is infectious,
Truly! But often I need some downtime.

What can I say about my sweet Ruin?
Well, for starters, you ought to watch your back.
When she starts killing, you’ll be a shoo-in,
But rest assured, you’ll be a tasty snack!

Alas, she may be annoying at times,
But she’s mine for the taking. Mine-all mine!
-GingerPalulu check out their shop here

art by Hawkeyyee

“Whenever you see flies or insects in a still life—a wilted petal, a black spot on the apple—the painter is giving you a secret message. He’s telling you that living things don’t last—it’s all temporary. Death in life. That’s why they’re called natures mortes. Maybe you don’t see it at first with all the beauty and bloom, the little speck of rot. But if you look closer—there it is.”
-Donna Tartt

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? One may find a simple stone lying upon the mossy ground beautiful. Another, perhaps, the cloud hanging silently just above their head. The water streaming fluidly along in a river. Yes… Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. To some, even death is beautiful.

Gazing upon my skin, my wings, my colors. Most have said it is beauty. A beauty so enamoring, lovely even. Yes, gazing at death can be beautiful. Watching those beautiful eyes as they bring about your doom. Those lovely, beautiful colors that match the color spilling from your own body. Those beautiful feathers, the wings of death. Not an angel, no, far from it. Not an angel but just as breathtaking as it takes away your breath.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… And I find your eyes most beautiful whilst I hold them in my claws. -Vegaswaddlez

Demons and witchcraft
You stood as you laughed
Their eyes swollen red
From death and bloodshed

Mumbling curses,
straining focus
Red feathers spread across the floor
They hear it call, the sorrowful roar
-kveikur

by xYura