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Crimson Falls
Back at Crimson Falls
The nights are dark, and hollow
From the spell of the moon's lair
The trees dance wildly with its branches
Branches, playing its midnight tune
Back at Crimson Falls
The chill sweeps through the valley as it whispers it's cool chant. Birds flee, the wolves howl
As they echo, echo through the night.
Back at Crimson Falls
A star blazed its trail over the land
Like the skip of a polished pebble
The place dims with the light from the blue corn moon
Back at Crimson Falls
Caverns are filled with wondrous mystery
Calling, calling to those who seek
Crystal water flows from the mountain's mouth as it trickles through the night
Trickling through Crimson Falls
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I wrote this poem back when I was around 11 years old. At the time -- I was experiencing one of the hardest transitions in my teenage life. Poetry was my escape from reality, and I hope it would be yours too.