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Silver Springs (1 Viewer)


She serenades silver springs and shallow souls beneath starry skies,
stimulates simple dreams with splendid shows, feeding starving minds.
A songbird of sorts, soaring through sun & snow, swift like a storm,
never going back to the life she had before, wishing goodbye to the lord.

A witch, not the wicked type, granting wishes and wonders with Wiccan rites,
dancing naked in the rich moonlight with wolves and mice along landslides.
By the edge of seventeen, she had broken the chains and emerged a phoenix,
torn through the trails and translated scriptures from Theban.

Restlessly rambling with Rhiannon, a gypsy giving grace as long as you follow,
listening to little lies from Sara, a little demon dreaming of songs from tomorrow.
The coven carefully covered the dangers drifting behind dark despairs,
selfishly seducing stranded hunters with golden locks and artsy wears.

Moving beneath Odin's ravens, a potent maven of all chakra,
singing her songs to survivors, smooth sonnets about Valhalla.
Stealing sorrows seamlessly through traditional drama,
the Sparrow saves needlessly and endures the ritual's trauma.

Collecting coin for curing consciousness, mixing elixirs and spirits,
restoring memories with melodies, mesmerizing like Winter's appearance.
Runes ripple beneath ruins, temples drowning in crystal lakes,
you can see her standing there, like the goddess Frigg, in a wishful daze.

Her silhouette sleeps in the shadows, a slick cloak made of Norse magic,
protected by Baldr, Thor, and Váli while they continue sword practice.
She dreams of days where being different doesn't burn you at the stake,
shimmering tears stream down the porcelain surface of her angelic face.

A courageous faith dawns down, waking her from a fleeting dream,
she must embrace the calm now, show the world the bleeding trees.
Explain that witchcraft doesn't mean sacrificing weeping seeds,
that practical magic isn't tragic and can bring a teeming peace.

She serenades silver springs and shallow souls beneath starry skies,
stimulates simple dreams with splendid shows, feeding starving minds.
A songbird of sorts, seducing strangers from beyond a steamy mist,
making sure the world remembers the songs of Stevie Nicks...

"You could be my silver spring, blue-green colors flashing,
I would be your only dream, your shining autumn, ocean crashing."
- Stevie Nicks


Senior Member
I had to google who Stevie Nicks, is this some sort of ode to her? That is how I read it. So far I like it the use of word choices and I can tell this is a passionate piece, full of hard work and effort.