Night

Night is chaos. Night is wild. Night is passion. Night is my nature unfurled. Night is the tempest of my thoughts, my emotion. Night is the billowing, blazing, churning creation of me, the manifestation of my dark. It awakens. It walks moonlit paths. It screams with the forest. It gazes at the starlight lining with silver the clouds that drift away, and wonders at their meaning. It invokes the stillness of shadows, and as they seep under my skin, we are alive. My nights are the very bones of mystery, the rarity of knowing, the wings of life itself. My flesh throbs deeply with the secrets of the stars. My hair extends, a wiry ether stream as I walk through the faerie fields of time and space. Here, the wind and I are one, a kindred spirit, twirling through the blanket of night, to the song of its creatures. Night is home, it envelops me, wrapping me in the absence of light, the presence of uncertainty, the feeling of being lost. And as we howl primitive within each other, as lovers do in the dead of night, we are our higher selves.

Brightly spun, Wonder-woven,
Lady Faemore Lorei