∴
in twilight’s clutch, we wander
as shape-shifting souls by midnight’s call
our hidden selves, a haunting wonder
in ghastly shadows, where the dead enthrall
∴
∴
in twilight’s clutch, we wander
as shape-shifting souls by midnight’s call
our hidden selves, a haunting wonder
in ghastly shadows, where the dead enthrall
∴
∴
a whimsical witch, her chuckles her spell,
silly and mirthful, through lands she does dwell,
brewing up joy, wherever she may roam,
in laughter’s incantation, she finds her home
∴
∴
in the northern rainforests, the spirit bear roams,
its cream fur sets it apart, a widely known legend
·
in native mythos, revered as a symbol of peace,
scientifically, it’s the Kermode bear, a rare beast
∴
∴
‘neath Glasgae’s mirk,
scotsman’s yarns, streets candlelit,
a lost love’s ghost weeps
∴
∴
she held the seven in her pockets deep,
their dark mutters, her sin,
yet, in her, a fire, a flame to keep,
defying these demons, her light from within
∴
∴
in thoughts, we reap the wild and free,
harvesting the self, a reverie
·
reuniting with our natural core,
in contemplation, we explore and restore
∴
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