We Create Our Own Magick
The Dreaming Dark
We Create Our Own Magick
The Dreaming Dark
.png/:/cr=t:0%25,l:0%25,w:100%25,h:100%25/rs=w:700,cg:true)
The Dreaming Dark
The Dreaming Dark
Nestled amongst the ancient, dripping trees, the wet earth, and soft moss - the witch practices her arts. She howls and sings, dances and dreams, and wreathes those dreams of stone and stars, of darkness and light, into new creations that breathe their magick into the world.
Old books, apothecary bottles, tarnished silver, iron keys, bone china, forgotten finds tucked away in dusty shops, carrying centuries of secrets.
Runes, ravens, poetry, tarot, leather journals bound with heavy parchment splotched with ink.
Wooded streams that burble over mossy rocks, a rough hewn door hidden behind a wall of ivy, fresh scones with honey and clotted cream.
Thistle down and briar thorn,
a dryad's kiss, an Elf Lord's scorn. The mournful pipes beneath the Hill, I close my eyes and hear them still.
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.