Under an Obsidian Sea,
Your heart lies with unease.
It's withered with no light,
no golden rays piercing through the night.
All is still,
But your mind is shrill.
Lay down your wearying dread,
don't let monsters fill your head,
From your heavy eyes, let fall your tears,
let me catch them in one hand, and with the other smother your fears.
The night is bitterly cold,
the road is trodden and old.
Let me carry your sorrow,
until you can release it into the gentle winds of the morrow.
Under the Obsidian Sea,
you reach for me.
Keep close, for I have found thee.
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The Thing With Fangs
PoetryA collection of poems and ramblings from the deafening mind of a quiet girl.