Faery King

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Stalking through woods so late at night

I see a group out in the wild

Earth coloured dresses, hats, and suits

a dim lit place below arched roots

A bat of wings, then steps are heard

as wind stirs up the dried-out earth

There emerges a figure not too far

putting light into the dark

That was the man, the forest's heir

spoke those words, till then unsaid

seemed to be an unheard prayer

A wooden crown atop his head

so beautifully stood there

in forest green and autumn red

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