Nightshade

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More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Left to interpretation

Submitted: November 20, 2013

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Submitted: November 20, 2013

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When Man planted his seeds upon the fertile earth,

It’s a simple impulse, born of hope overflowing from his hearth

Obsidian black surfaces glowed with a spark, pure and unspoiled.

He fed the ground with blood, sweat and tears,

Cutting away flesh and bone. But alas to his greatest fears.

They grew black and twisted, every living soul wilts away

by their presence, gnarly roots find their way

to her beating heart, devouring her light.

Trapping her in a never-ending night.

The Man slashes away at the young virgin vines,

Until his body gave out, trying all he can to cross the line.

He could not hear her over the noise of the forest,

Entangled and estranged, Man could only watch

As the fruits of his labour reach well beyond him

Towards... the abode of the stars.


© Copyright 2020 CZR. All rights reserved.

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