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“ATHENA They fall silently. the steps of her arrival - crossing snow so pale even the morning sky would fade into nightfall's amber; For she has entered the palace of gold - her hair braided with hope and tainted with red leaves which colours remind of a hanged man's rope - for her name is war and her crown is crafted out of grief.” — Laura Chouette
ATHENA
They fall silently.
the steps of her arrival - crossing snow so pale even the morning sky would fade into nightfall's amber;
For she has entered the palace of gold - her hair braided with hope and tainted with red leaves
which colours remind of a hanged man's rope - for her name is war
and her crown is crafted out of grief.