Closely, we walked, past the hinterland crypts–
the houses of friends, and people we knew,
forging nigh but a sound, and with sealed lip,
lest the scourge may hear, and, quick, run us through.
Rare, is a sight, be it person, or beast,
but, we spied as such, a girl like a sprite,
skipping near briar, and brush, to the east,
eyes like a sunburst, and face like a wight.
She carried her with a red parasol,
Amanita, it was, cleaving her crown.
She bared us her fangs ‘neath gossamer caul,
and trailed upon roots that tore up the ground.
Hail, her! The Goddess of Daydream, and Flight.
Hail the New Gods, who relieve us our plight!
*
About the Author
Silvatiicus Riddle is a Rhysling-Nominated Dark Fantasy & Speculative Fiction Writer and Poet. He hails from the city of Gotham, and it is there that he hosts a glaring of chthonic gods disguised as cats, a hoard of books, and all of his imaginary friends. He studied English and Literature at Kingsborough. He has appeared in Abyss & Apex, Dreams & Nightmares, Enchanted Living, Eternal Haunted Summer, and Spectral Realms, among others.
http://www.Facebook.com/SilvatiicusRiddle Instagram/Twitter/X/Bluesky: @Silvatiicus
