In the night you prowl,

Like a shadow that dances,

In the moonlit groves,

And beneath the moon’s eye,

You send a scare,

to every creature that knows you're there,

Then when the moon falls,

You'll lay and close your eyes,

And dream of its demise,

Because even the moon runs, you know,

And hides from view,

And finally you'll have your throne,

Oh, to those who are darker than the sky,

Thriving t...

The world

Has called you

A jewel

And a treasure

And a gemstone

I see you as

A hijacker

But not as ordinary

As you suspect:

A hijacker

In gemstone...

Eyes of silk,

And slate,

And soul,

Look upon me,

And yet I see nothing,

But fire.

Fire in the dark....

I roam the land of ash

My paws bleed in ink,

More and more and more,

But still I crawl

The ink then swirls

Into light and dark,

Into reality and dream,

Into letters and spaces,

Into poetry

And the first line

Speaks of bleeding

As beauty...

**Even the ash went still**

**Even it listened**

**Like it didn't know **

**Little did I know,**

**It always knew **

**It just wouldn't tell **...

The ash clung to my paws like frost, but it bit like regret. I was somewhere I’d never been. It smelled like a woodland that I had never stepped foot in, yet still I remembered it in scent, in nose, in memory that doesn't belong to me. Still, I remembered what I don't know.

And still I ran.

I ran from the silence that had teeth. I breathed in the ash until I was dizzy. It spoke to me in the sile...

The silent myths turned

To spoken stories

And I ran

Ran til’ moonlight turned to black

And black turned to ash....

Your time is up.

Better run!

Is what I heard in a hush

And so, naturally, I ran,

But never once did I know

What I was running from

And never once did I know

If I could outrun it....

The sun came first,

It flew to the sky boldly,

And warmed the breath of salt,

When I paused and listened,

The tides ripped in silence,

But the canopies screamed,

I bring to you the fallen,

The sun-kissed beauties,

And the ones who hung in the salt-washed sky....

“Remember the last time you tried something new?” the wind seemed to whisper like a ghost. Bear, as he called himself, did not remember life before that mistake. He only knew this—the heat of the sun, the constant wait, the love he deserved but never got.

The memory of his mistake drifted in his mind, vivid and poignant like smoke in the breeze. He did remember. How could he forget? The day had st...