Celtic Nightfall
On the crest of the sky
Where blue Irish mountains lye
Lightning strikes and greenery starts to die
Through thick, misty clouds like those from dry ice
The full moon peaks through, ideal for a pagan sacrifice
Through the mountains you walk further
And you hear from the water an unsettling murmur
The water ripples, dark and clear
But instead beauty, all you think is fear
And that something else is here
Finally a dark, snake-like tail begins to appear
The Loch Ness lifts her shimmering, scaly head
Now you feel awe instead
From a distance, she looks like an elegant, overgrown swan
But before you can blink twice, she is gone
Copyright © Aleah Fitzwater | Year Posted 2017
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