A forest dream
under the full moon.
The wolves run wild,
an owl hoots,
the trees whisper words
you cannot understand.
A silvery moon
hides behind the clouds.
The shiver up your spine,
flesh touches flesh,
a warm breath of darkness
as you wake up.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
A forest dream
under the full moon.
The wolves run wild,
an owl hoots,
the trees whisper words
you cannot understand.
A silvery moon
hides behind the clouds.
The shiver up your spine,
flesh touches flesh,
a warm breath of darkness
as you wake up.
Why is this giving me harry potter vibes. Like the ‘dementors’ are on their way.
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I didn’t think of Harry Potter when I wrote the piece.
Thanks for the comment. It’s good to see my words from a different perspective. 💜💙
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