In the shadows of "Potions of Ale", A stranger drinks, eyes sharp as nails. The air is thick, a rancid brew, With scents of blood and something new. The barkeep snarls, his gaze askew, He barks at guests, a foul-mouthed slew. Around the bar, the stench of rot, From spirits spilled and lives forgot. He looks for one not yet arrived, A traveler with secrets, thrice contrived. They speak of eggs that twitch and stir, Of dead men’s whispers, faint and slurred. There’s talk of farming, strange secrets kept, And of a man in black shoes who crept. She’s mentioned too, in whispers low, The one who watches where winds blow. A prophecy of dragon’s flame, A haven lost, a traveler’s name. Blackberries shroud the tale untold, In waiting, truths will soon unfold.
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When the clouds press close, and shadows stay, Know that the sun still hides in play. This weight you carry is not forever, And even the darkest ties can sever. Lean on me, if the journey is long, Together we’ll hum a quiet song.
Sing of the Lady of the Night Who treads on sacred, silvered ground, Sways daintily to silent sound, Adorns the sky with silver light, And lingers with the Shades. She is the Goddess of the Dawn, Twinkle of kindness in his eye, The beauty of the midnight sky, Sister to those who dance and mourn, Her love a light that never fades. She is the Mother of us all. Stand still beneath Her watchful gaze; Her light sings of unuttered praise. Sweet Love before the tragic fall— Her endless mercy all pervades. And we emerge from 'neath her spell, As golden light spills 'cross the land, Across the page, over the hand That writes these words, this tale to tell: Her strength endures, and fear abates. The warmth, the joy, the leaping heart That follows as the new day breaks, As softly, hope once more awakes. Despair and doubt now fall apart; There is healing in the Shades.
