An Empty Throne - Part 5 of 9
An Empty Circle – Part 5
A clearing they did enter slow,
though haste was of the days found deed
Beyond the waters chanting flow
of driftwood doors and ancient weed
There stood a man in beard of white,
not startled as they entered sure
His staff possessed a jeweled light,
a robe of crimson fabric bore
Through misted haze of chanted sway
they spoke for it was their command
He turned to stare with eyes of gray
and silence them with lifted hand
“You words are known before you speak
of beauty taken to the gate
A potion, magic, which you seek
to wish on hope and not too late”
Upon the floor a contoured ring
in seashell essence powered stain
A cauldron empty smokeless sting
it burned their eyes, their skin the same
“Fear not for this shall be the path,
Now step within this circled mark”
As they obeyed, with wave of staff
and suddenly their world was dark
With woven lines of vibrant glare,
a feeling ‘pon their chests fell tight
Now breathless as their thoughts did share
when sure of foot they stood in light
As focus came their worried eyes,
their castle stood as if a dream
The shaman spoke, past sorrowed cries
“Now take me promptly to your queen”
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016
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