Not again...

[Miya]

He wasn\'t going to stop,
I could see it in his eyes -
intent, hatred, confidence.
His blade dripped blood on my conscience.
Not again...
His smile mocked me.
Not again....
But he was someone\'s child,
someone\'s baby, like my own.
Someone held him in their arms
when the darkness frightened him.
But this pleasant memory was lost to him now...
Not again...
Step, step, smile,
He wasn\'t going to stop,
So I stopped him,
and held him as the darkness came.

[edit: I did not mean that this poem is being spoken by Miya. The true narrator should be unknown at this point]

[Miya]

This city is alive beneath my watching eyes,
with veins of stone and brick.
The people flick and wander about from place to place,
while dark corners reach out their shadowy tendrils -
like a black flame,
consuming the light.
Day shift to night.
Knight shifts, and I stay
to watch the rogues play.
All born to be something better,
all born innocent,
then turned, twisted, corrupted,
like a plague across the city\'s streets.
My Will rains fire upon them,
yet they remain, they re-grow,
because they know I cannot sacrifice my children,
no matter how great the cause.
They are precious to me,
like the earth and the air from which they live.
I am powerless.

[Miya]

It sits like a dark monument of my shame,
in the middle of my beloved city.
Its sharp and twisted lines, like Her face.
A reminder of my folly,
the embodiment of my sorrow.
Her presence mocks my dreams,
Her corruption oozes into the pores
of my fair city.
My children drown in it.
My precious children.
They are all I have left,
for the hole She left in my heart,
Vast, Cold, Black,
grows like a dark flame, consuming all.
Why won\'t She forgive me...

[Quietus_Silivren]

Very nice. It gives life and personality to myth and legend. I won\'t say any names, either, but this gives me an idea...