Sweet Whispmother
Sweet Whispmother
With the gastly shroudes of white
A tale told by men in bitter spite
You come in the night to steal away
A mothers most cherished prize
Then transformed the child be
And grotesque to mothers eyes
Oh but fret not young lad
The stories are truly right
For the Whispmother
Sweet Whispmother
This child I give to you
-Calan Arthur
YOU ARE READING
Tales and Songs of Faylorne
Fantasi(A side project to add more depth to the world of Faylorne) Tales and songs of the land called Faylorne. From the writings of Calan to the songs of Obidius, this book holds ancient stories and songs told by the bards for generations.
