Dreyma’s Call (Poem)

This poem accompanies my recent story, “A Not-So-Fair Faerie’s Tale”. If you would like a tiny bit of context, well, there you go. Read that! 

Secret of the scarlet moon

weighing in, solely June

startled by the midnight boon,

the Dreyma’s call is wild.


Emptied in the air at dusk

molten gold, sentient husk

smells of twilit dripping musk,

the Dreyma is no child.


Falling fast toward hero’s wake

taking heed of single drake

flying toward the mind’s own lake–

Dreyma heart defiled.


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