Amongs the trees i watch, as the begins of the forest gather, before the
flames of a bonfire. Old and demented elves, whip branches of fire against
the black earth.
The flames feed on souls, while a demon shakes o pot, the witches gather in
a circle and, dead flowers adorn the center. Amidst obscurity. I see taking
place, the pagan celebration, of the creatures of the black forest.
Beneath this sky, the contles stars, the wolves sing their saddest song the
elves madden, and the witches sleep, now the moon shines in all it's
intensity.
The druids begin to look for mistletoe, the plant that granrs them eternal
life, and when the spirits rise, everything shine! Beneath this sky of
countless stars i watch.