GoldenCritique-Club

Blackfish, void of ocean's blue Where blindness grants immortal view Of infinite, crisp, and cryptic hues Your unseeing roars and blissful mews Saturation sanded away Your color bleached with ebony And though your veins are void of blood, The darkness gives you room to breathe Goldfish dying in the sun Glamour asphyxiates your lungs Your soul flails through hot molten gold Gasping in your glowing bowl And though you croak with no real chance, You shine on still and drown in light To dance your glitz in human hands Until you savor Blackfish's night

    The continent of Truphoria, the third week of summer on the 1345th Year of Mortality.    In the third floor of his home on the Night of Raining Thorns, Prince Seth Crey was killed by a masked assassin. Everyone who knew him agreed he most likely deserved it.    But now, hours earlier, public dislike of the adolescent was placed aside. Dusk began to fall over Adem as the nobility of the world, plus a few opportunistic stragglers, flocked into Creys’ Keep. Any concern about masked assassins had, unfortunately, fallen by the wayside. There was a far greater matter at hand.    There was a wedding due to start.    This was no nor