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108 Ghost Flames
In mountain fog, it stands alert
A guide with flames of blue
Where lost souls wander, still unhurt
It shows them pathways new
Each ghostly wisp around its neck
(One hundred eight in count)
Helps spirits cross the final trek
Beyond life's mortal mount
Its eyes, like pools of violet deep
Observe the unseen flow
Of those who've drifted off to sleep
Unsure of where to go
No fear or pain in its approach
Just understanding, calm
As spectral fires gently coach
Each soul with healing balm
Through Hisui's peaks and valleys low
This creature walks between
The worlds that mortals cannot know
In realms too few have seen
Typhlosion's gift, unique and rare
Makes death less dark, less strange
As purple flames light up the air
To ease the final change
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Copyright ©
I.A. Ryd
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