The
dark trees hiss and spit grey slime
their
bony claws stalk; green fangs mash reeds
Eyes
rage with fire; it sweeps pure realms.
Fair
Zeva bows thrice to bless her lake
her
child maids rise from star rimmed globes
white
souls of babes that fate dyed red.
The
holy girl casts a lily bud ring
honed
by sun's grace and draped in dew.
A
blue moon spins; foul troops sway blind
The
racked land gasps; balm pours its love.
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