Fallen

Within the ruins of a once-thriving civilization, A being sits—crying, muttering, and at times screaming— Trembling in undiluted agony. Its beauty, mesmerizing yet ordinary, Its complexion—neither fair nor dark—glitches in and out of reality. Beneath its broken form lie feathers of every color, Scattered like fallen dreams. Behind it, two limbs—bloody, lifeless—hang, Drained of vitality and purpose. Stitches run across its skin like ancient scars, Each one a tale of war and sacrifice. Here lies the Protector. Here lies the Guardian. Here lies the Warrior. Here lies the Healer—and the Watcher. It shielded the weak. It fought for love. It bore the pain of others. And it watched over all—good or bad.