Out in the dark her unfortunate shadow calls by night, owl-like cry.
A Memory shut off by the heat of fire.
The woods are salvaging ancient immortals:
The heart is only a slave in her hand, a hand turned to stone.
A fear in arising; her empire will threaten insecurity out.
By the innocents tongue, the oath of disguise has to come.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Simone Goertz.
Published on e-Stories.org on 02.04.2021.