Ardours of Zamargad Orta

We fled the Garden of Eden and mountebanks,
To willows of dream wisps.
We entangle root in each other,
Lay our webbed nests to flourish,
And breathe our last ember Here.
 
Be you a weary traveler or prideful warrior, do be wary:
The beguiling, winged creatures of Noctem.
 
Cling to your guarded, dimming candlelight.
Tread lightly, and with solemn respect...
For the abyss envelopes and reflects, indiscriminately.
 
 
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