The trees whisper secrets, soaked in twilight.
Moss blankets reality, dreams drip like starlit dew.
Who glimpses the gossamer threads, running ticklish
between thought and shadow, where giggles wail softly?
A crown of leaves found upon a fallen whim,
curling, spiraled in the tongue-twister winds,
harkening playful jesters with eyes of night.
The fox with a tale darker than dusk
leads the brave seekers with nightingale calls;
each footprint echoes magic and dread
in this wild spread of thicketed hopes and lost dreams.
As dawn descends, casting lantern shadows,
the grove turns hungry — yearning.
Strange paths of sunlight, yet beckoning hyacinth blooms
whisper of wanderers who were never found.
Scrappy notes scribbled in forgotten notebooks
twirl about like forgotten wishes held
by threads of dreams—a tether on spectral threads
that could lead us back to our innocence, or somewhere darker.
Discover more secrets of the light and shadow
among the twisted vines of our mind's interplay.
Childish Overtones | Echoes of Dread