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Poetry News Post #5467

Tales of the Dark I

Written by: Unsighted Romana
Date: Monday, October 7th, 2019
Addressed to: Everyone


It is my hope you enjoyed my first tales,
Esoterica, stories of life and love,
They were my inspiration,
Tales to think fondly of.

This next module is hardly as sweet,
Tales of the dark universe ignored,
that we are forced to meet,
Banish your doubt and take this journey with me.

The first story we tell,
Is one from my home,
A story the children knew well,
One of horror's ancient,

The yawning void,
A place of dark,
in a nondescript meadow,
Our terror starts.

Of Bagwar's Copse,
Amid the darkened wood,
Where you hold close your hopes,
The elders do watch,

Horrors from before,
we started to tell time,
They prey on your fears.
Their evil is prime.

When I was a child,
I did not believe,
Stories so wild, doubt unreconciled,
So I went to explore.

And reader I tell you,
Even now, years hence,
Some of the dark, dead corners,
of our Sapience,

Must remain unexplored,
Of this I do warn,
And moreso, Implore,
The unplumbed depths be let alone.

Or surviving nightmares escape,
into the greater world,
To crawl and slither,
their wings unfurled.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Daedalan, in the year 812 AF.


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Poetry News Post #5467

Tales of the Dark I

Written by: Unsighted Romana
Date: Monday, October 7th, 2019
Addressed to: Everyone


It is my hope you enjoyed my first tales,
Esoterica, stories of life and love,
They were my inspiration,
Tales to think fondly of.

This next module is hardly as sweet,
Tales of the dark universe ignored,
that we are forced to meet,
Banish your doubt and take this journey with me.

The first story we tell,
Is one from my home,
A story the children knew well,
One of horror's ancient,

The yawning void,
A place of dark,
in a nondescript meadow,
Our terror starts.

Of Bagwar's Copse,
Amid the darkened wood,
Where you hold close your hopes,
The elders do watch,

Horrors from before,
we started to tell time,
They prey on your fears.
Their evil is prime.

When I was a child,
I did not believe,
Stories so wild, doubt unreconciled,
So I went to explore.

And reader I tell you,
Even now, years hence,
Some of the dark, dead corners,
of our Sapience,

Must remain unexplored,
Of this I do warn,
And moreso, Implore,
The unplumbed depths be let alone.

Or surviving nightmares escape,
into the greater world,
To crawl and slither,
their wings unfurled.

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Daedalan, in the year 812 AF.


Previous | Summary | Next