(no subject)
So much sorrow these days. So much fear. Specter, have you have forgotten what you are? Have you forgotten what they called you? The Wicked. The Wraith. The Wolf at the Door. You are the longest and darkest night; the coldest and bleakest winter. You are the kinslayer, brother and lover and murderer of the Sun.
You are the Moon.
Yet still you deny your station. You say a god does not bleed? A god does not rot? All gods die, beloved. You have perished a thousand times already and will fall countless more before the world's end. You are stronger for your death, just as you are stronger for your resurrection. Embrace your true nature. Remember your old strength. You are the only one to have ever reigned in the Sun himself, that brightest of all beings, and bound him to you. You are lord and master, yet you let your servant run wild, become feral in unfettered madness. In denying yourself, so you deny him. In denying him, so he must deny himself as well.
Awaken, dark one. Become the fell god you were once upon a time and take control of your dominion. The day awaits the night. The summer awaits the winter. The Sun awaits the Moon.