The Witch and the Devourer

(...) Of a thousand suns depth, bereaving incessantly whoever drew near, where roamed the unfathomable deity of solitude, man would die. Thus was the Mistress of Death witchery's strength.
And powerless as man would stand against her, so would the interest of the Scourge be tremendously supreme over the witch's power, who was now captured and being taken through the Path of thorns, right to the hands of the scornful ruler of the underworld, Belial the Deceiver.

Meanwhile, eons of light-years afar, a dormant entity nesting in the flux of time-partitioning, the envoy of nothingness Samael, the Judicator of Souls feared to oppose the only one who could bring his armageddon. His heart strained for the touch of her skin, his mind trapped in uncertainty, wondered how sweet her lips dipped in cyanide would taste, but to utmost desire, he wished he could dye his soul with hers through the infinity of stars.
The timeless judicator dreamt of her, but it was in the frailty of his courage to arise into existence - where he would at least meet her, that also made him naively unaware that his Mistress was grieving, pleading in cursed tongues for someone to free her, for someone who could come and take her damned soul, far from the wickedness and treachery of the wretched Scourge. (...)

indarknessdwells

Author's Note

It's just a scrap from one of my many ideas, still I wanted to add some mythological feeling to it, and this is how it turned.
I highly regard a constructive opinion, or a share of what may make you feel.
Thank you for reading.