Seven Years

Abchanchu sneers through the blackness

nature retreats from his sight

For he is the dark

the night

the not living

πŸŒ‘

With each solemn step

grass dies underfoot

murkiness left behind

no life

just the absence of all

πŸŒ‘

Even the moon hides

so not to be observed 

The apparition consumes

all

that catches his gaze 

πŸŒ‘

Once every seven years

he rises

once every seven years

stay hidden

to not be seen

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