“All the stories are true”. That is how we begin on the wild ride that is the Nephilim universe. This is a story of forbidden love, of the girl in all of us who longs to be special, the story of the woman we could grow to be, the story…

© 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR The pain of what is forbidden The beauty of what he yearns for The stars will die before she is forgotten As far away his sister wages his war, His heart torn in two What he shows you, are they lies or the truth? This is not the boy you knew This is the man who has lived anew, The weight on those thin shoulders long ago Hold up a head the bards so long ago, sang about

© 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR Humanity burns so bright but the brightest candles fade easiest, And such an illusory light Will always be put to the test, They say that time heals best But these wounds were made at time’s behest, And these gashes will never close Remain forever our greatest woes, This blood, a beautiful river This was the First’s pain, As the power of love caused her shivers As did her fear, of having been in vain

© 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR If i ever paint my life, It’ll be a bright fire, The high of the strife, The beauty like the notes on a lyre If i ever show my thoughts, They’ll be a glittering gold, The truest that i ever wrought, Be it heat, or be it cold If i ever sing my tract, It’ll be a blinding white, It’ll be an ebony black, For i am of dark and of light, If i ever paint my life, It’ll be an azure blue,

© 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR the dark is not for the innocent dreams have no place here bloodhounds follow the angels’ scent sniffing for a hint of fear in a world where roses are blood red and ghosts neither alive nor dead enter, and you’ll find you didn’t mind the sun’s heat and even oblivion will begin to look sweet the garden of hope will stay forever green and you will always have the dreams you have seen

victory will be sweet © 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR one moment i’m flame the next i’m ash a beast they cannot tame a bird they cannot catch my eyes will shine bright i won’t let the obstacles fill my sight i’m no longer that little girl who was so afraid of the whole world even if my world was razed i would still stand, unfazed they try to pull the rug from beneath my feet and i thank them, for they make my victory sweet

© 2020 KRITIKA THAKUR The calm before the storm, of all pride, we are shorn, Always we are torn, before you know it, we are gone We take and we hoard We give, we implore, No justice and no court, We live and die by the sword No peace, but no war Wonder what this is for Remember our days of yore Here, Ipour out all of my woes, That Ihave always held to my heart, close For the last time I strike my pose,

A pond without water, and a tree that is not green , Is like a life without laughter and intentions not clean; Water has much might, so for what it is worth, please do what is right, and help save our earth ! You need water,as do I, Think hard of what you see, Today, I do not lie, I come not from middle earth, she shapes our lives, as would a potter. Doing what you do, it is all life you hurt Cross my heart and hope to die,