Probably not as funny as I think I am
Insta @chloe_j_writes
Land of the old gods The tuya, gift and promise; Eruptions to come.
By Chloë J.3 years ago in Poets
western wind come home to she who sent you; carry my heart back to me.
bone-strewn lonely place collecting souls like seashells, wanting company.
lament what was not stories, never yours, passed down in blood-soaked rock song.
eerie siren song ancient, coaxing, will-o’-wisp, keep your wits about.
Hiding ancient beasts, Magic lost, forgotten lore, Safe in the mountains.
Mourn times long since lost. Forlorn fiddle melody Trapped in stone. A gift.
Thousand ways to die. Freezing, falling, starvation- Still, you come to me?
one misstep, tumbles free-fall, wind-ripping, fear-scream lone bird with no wings.
Kingdoms rise and fall. Long-past wars waged, lost and won: I the sole constant.
Star-kissed summit, breathe Your secrets to me; speak of The birth of the world.
Forests grand and grim Form mazes on the mountains. Death is waiting here.
