It began, like all things before, from within – the Change.
Their once golden blood, darkened to a iridescent black.
As their battle wounds festered and became infected with the pollution of the lower world.
Hatred and lost consumed the minds of the Fallen.
Their innate gentle dispositions became twisted and demented.
The outside manifestation on their hate.
Feathers fell, leaving behind wings of scarred tissue.
Some lose their wings altogether, mutating into horrors that rivaled the sweet children of Lilith.
Breathtaking, enchanting, and darkly attractive.
While many of the Defeated became grotesque, others remained beautiful.
A mask to hide the sinister breast inside.
It was the language of songs that they spoke.
It resonates with the soul more so than with the ears.
The ears inadequate channels to receive their voice.
No matter the transformation they may have undergone, only this did not changed. Enchanting, intoxicating and darkly inviting.
And so fallen, defeated and changed –