Abchanchu sneers through the blackness
nature retreats from his sight
For he is the dark
the night
the not living
π
With each solemn step
grass dies underfoot
murkiness left behind
no life
just the absence of all
π
Even the moon hides
so not to be observed
The apparition consumes
all
that catches his gaze
π
Once every seven years
he rises
once every seven years
stay hidden
to not be seen
I have begun to personify my own moods – perhaps what you have done here. Intentionally or otherwise. In particular my black moods. I wonder whether that may help me to distance myself from the blackness.
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I think that may be the case for me also subconsciously. I wrote this one quite a while ago and maybe it was an effort to push the mood outwards
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I am doing the same currently in my little sci fi novel “The Traveler”. Easy(ish) to write because there is so much of my own wishes and fears in the plot and the characters.
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I think thatβs a great idea! Itβs creative, and allows feelings and emotions to be exhaled. π
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for he is the dark the night the not living Love this!
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Thank you! π
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Great piece, thanks for posting it.
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Thank you Geri π
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