With hair the soft feathers of shadow
And eyes like the ocean at night
His staff a branch of deathwrought yew
And his heart devoid of light
The prince of shadows strides dark and deep
With the silent grace of a ghost
He is everything a human would wish for
And everything that hurts them the most
A smirk on his lips and a curl in his brow
The west wind carries his name
Into the woodland his footsteps take him
His briny eyes aflame
He is danger, addiction, irresistible urge
The desire for pleasure and pain
He is the darkness at the edge of the sky
The need to ignite the mundane
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem