Placeholder: Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!" Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!"

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Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!"

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2 years ago

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SDXL

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832 × 1248

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Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!"
Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!" Eyes shut, she summons ancient magic And feels it swell, electric, through the soil— The pentagram glowing with arcane light.
Michael archangel
An archangel sent to earth does away with all pagan and commercial influences that corrupt Christian Easter, in the eternal struggle between good and evil...
Dahlia, angel of righteous demise, Traces with her scythe a five-pointed star— A prison to bind the demon in his tracks. Raising her blade to the gloomy skies, She invokes her sacred, fearsome role— "I am the goddess of the dead and damned!"
"Enlighten me then," Dahlia counters, Gripping her scythe, ready to mete out justice. Azazel only snarls, ancient evil in his eyes. So beneath the watchful gaze of nebulae, Angel and demon face off once again— An eternal dance between life and death.
"Enlighten me then," Dahlia counters, Gripping her scythe, ready to mete out justice. Azazel only snarls, ancient evil in his eyes. So beneath the watchful gaze of nebulae, Angel and demon face off once again— An eternal dance between life and death.
If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call, Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close. The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows, To fan the incense-waves through space. When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.
Dahlia shakes her head, unfazed, and states— "Your hubris I cannot allow to spread. Though demons vie for power, I guard the just." A look then passes, knowing, between two— One seeks chaos, the other harmony. An eternal clash of light and dark ensues.
An archangel sent to earth does away with all pagan and commercial influences that corrupt Christian Easter, in the eternal struggle between good and evil...
[art by Slipknot] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ignited in a
"Even angels need to rest eventually" ~Falce, reaper of angels
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