Whom It May Discern
Lit candles dance to the
overture,
Shadows play with the flicker of lure,
The sleeping beast trapped in the barred room,
Somewhere deep underneath the forest floor,
Drunk with the knowledge from the tree of life,
A vigilant moon abash as the solar paramour,
Spirits dance a ghostly waltz deep into night,
Waiting for this enchantress forever more,
The forest now beckons us to return with its nocturnal call,
Amidst the baying of rapid fiends,
The land of the dead waiting for our downfall,
For there is much more waiting to be seen.
(2017)
Copyright © Corwin Donovan | Year Posted 2017
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