As the world begins to change
With Yggdrasil's magic and grace.
Nothing will be the same
As the creatures will have their place.
But a spark ignites in her
To create some assistance in her quest.
She dreams of figures
Who would be able to help her at best.
She shook some dead leaves
Off an old tree.
They floated down to the ground
And laid their free.
With a quick pulse
Of magic and pollen.
She tried to bring life
To the leaves that have fallen.
A burning twitch as the leaves
Succumb their torture.
As a ghostly figure
Emerged from the posture.
With no soul
To call its' own.
The Whispers, as they are called
Are a presence of the unknown.
About the Creator
Mark Shaw
I began writing lyrics and stories back in high school. Even went as far as publishing a poem online and it being in a book. As with film a picture can say a thousand words and show emotion, but audio triggers that emotion.
Tales of the Aurora Borealis
Who knew a solar storm could be so beautiful? Purples, reds, and greens shimmering in our skies like dancing ribbons. Hypnotic and enchanting, the Northern Lights have had us humans in complete awe for centuries. Which got me thinking, what did our ancestors think of the Aurora Borealis?
By Rosie J. Sargent5 days ago in FYI
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