Song of the Sidhe

We are the whisper in the leaves
We are the flicker in the trees
We are the rustle of the wind in shrouded halls
We are the cold mist of the twilight
We are the colder mist at midnight
We are the chill of an old house when darkness falls
We are the creak upon the stairway
We are the rattle of the lock
We are the hooting of an owlet
We are the ticking of the clock
We are the sliver of pale moonlight
That falls upon the stair
We are the shadow in the corner
And the shape upon the chair
We are the ghosts and the sensations of a long-forgotten dream
We are the echoes and the answers of a long-awaited scream
We are the dawn, we are the dusk, we are the shadows in-between
We are the lost and the forgotten and the ones who’ve never been
We are the people of the forest and the cavern and the stream
We are the Kindly Ones, the Fair Folk, and the Children of the Dream
We are the Sidhe

Copyright © 2018 by Finn McLellan.  All rights reserved.

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