She knelt before the silent void,
A breath, a prayer, a thread destroyed.
The world had torn, the sky had split,
And through the rift, she fell to it.

In the abyss, her body redefined,
Distorted beauty, a sacred sign.
Each extra limb a hymn of pain,
A grace in darkness, an eternal refrain.

Flesh unbound, her form unmade,
Yet something holy took its place.
Fingers bloomed from severed grace,
A hundred fingers, a lover’s embrace.

Marked by the beyond, she rose as a saint,
Her fractured essence is no longer quaint.
In every jagged line and spectral gleam,
Lies the dark, divine truth of a fractured dream.