a woman walked the woods by a moonlit pond
her golden robe, hair’n scales in glistening blonde
she searched land and lake- on the silver line
her steps placed on the ridges of water’s spine
grass with pearls of icy dew easing her way
picking a grey soul, blood offspring from fey
pine trees behind her whispered’n breathed
the green, the blue, the pale squeezed
away from the withering kingdom of past
only a word away from the witch’s mark
only a wish away from the bleeding dark
orbs of light for eyes, her gaze cast
upon the shattering world of today
a haunted heart is a restless stray
if you must, prolong your stay
the realm of now is a scarring way
THE STORY HIVE 