Had I never entered this country
dark magic would have remained part
of fairy tales.
But tales are born of happenings,
not purely imagination.
What can be directed towards light can also
be twisted black.
Centuries of pain does that
to people’s souls,
leading them to avenge this blessed world.
Living amongst the workings,
talk will be talk, suspicion
suspicion,
and yet what I’ve seen
turns firm ground to putty.
You’d best not leave any hair behind.
Still, the cruelty that fuels and fires does,
in the end, destroy
those who’ve let ghosts poison them.
And the original curse
rolling through the generations lives on
until someone down the line breaks it
by gathering up their own light.
