From Days Ago
Friends of old, from days ago, appear again outside our door while shadows warn of threat drawn nigh for all to heed their very life. Where still the winds then thicks the fog, a mullered anger wields its maul from depths of wretched malcontent its need to savage, tear, torment the souls of those, who nair it knows, yet feasts upon in search of gold, as from its hidden halls it speaks to valleys deep and mountain peaks, where lies in wait both day and night those prepared to wake the light where which the witch it witches true and pure the light from which construe the spirits of the innocent to wield the swords from heaven sent, the violent vein of wrath to end the violent reign of wrath. Jade Dane Jaspers © October 17th, 2025