The Untold

The tales grow brittle,

left untold.

The incantations dry.

The knight, the dragon, and the maid

forgotten, left to die.

The hunter and the quarry

cease their endless chasing games.

And all the wild in all the world,

the silence slowly tames.

The story-laden stars go dark,

the woodland creatures cry.

The lantern-flowers give no light,

and fae no longer fly.

Beware the rift of of magic

separated from the earth.

No warriors to save the day,

just empty, longing dearth.

The stories lay forgotten now

on dusty, splintered shelves,

and we abandon to the void

the better of ourselves.

Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

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