In the garden of shadows, where secrets reside, Dark roses bloom, in the moon’s pale tide. Their petals like velvet, deep crimson and dark, Whispering secrets, in the night’s silent hark.In the heart of the night, by candlelight’s gleam, The blood rituals dance, like a twisted dream. Symbols carved deep, in a circle of trust, As the mystic chants rise, from the dark, dusty crust.The chalice is filled with the life’s scarlet flow, In this alchemical rite, where forbidden winds blow. A covenant sealed, in the shadows’ embrace, As the moonlight reveals, a ghostly trace.With incantations ancient, and symbols unknown, The arcane power in this circle is sown. Dark roses bear witness, their thorns like a crown, In this blood ritual’s night, where mysteries abound.A communion with forces, both ancient and deep, In this sacred union, secrets forever keep. Dark roses and blood, in a dark, sacred verse, In this ritual’s embrace, where the mystics converse.In the twilight of magic, where darkness enthralls, The dark roses and blood echo through ancient halls. In this forbidden dance, where secrets are spun, The night and its mysteries are forever one.

In the depths of Rields Velt, where shadows lay,

Llweyn, a daring boy, sought to steal the day.

A rose of ritual, in the Arch Mage’s keep,

In a dungeon of secrets, where the mysteries sleep.

With whispers of magic, the castle did sigh,

As moonlight bathed stone, reaching up to the sky.

Invisible threads of enchantment did weave,

As Llweyn, young and bold, began to deceive.

With stealth like a ghost, he slipped through the dark,

Past guards enchanted, on a secretive embark.

The ritual rose, its petals aglow,

He plucked from its slumber, both beauty and woe.

The Arch Mage stirred, in his sorcerer’s trance,

As Llweyn, undeterred, cast his risky advance.

Incantations of silence, a stolen grimoire clutched tight,

He ventured into realms of forgotten, ancient light.

Arcane symbols danced, as he whispered each spell,

In the castle’s hushed heart, where few dared to dwell.

But Llweyn, with courage and dreams in his eyes,

Stole not just a rose but the Mage’s prized prize.

The grimoire of power, ancient knowledge untold,

Its pages like secrets, in his young hands, did unfold.

With newfound magic, and a rose full of might,

He vanished into the night, a thief of the mystical light.

In Rields Velt castle, a legend would grow,

Of Llweyn, the bold, who dared to bestow,

The secrets of sorcery, from the Arch Mage’s hand,

A boy of audacity, in a mystical land.

(To the style of Extenuation)

(Verse 1)

In the city’s heart, where shadows creep,

A lone man walks, his secrets to keep.

But in the darkness, a thief did stand,

With a heart of stone, and a knife in hand.

(Chorus)

Oh, this man’s life, cut down by the night,

In the alley’s gloom, where wrong meets right.

A thief from the guild, ruthless and cold,

Took his last breath, in stories untold.

(Verse 2)

His life was a canvas, painted with pain,

In a world of chaos, where nothing’s plain.

Yet he dreamt of peace, of a life well-lived,

Till the thief’s cruel blade, his dreams deceived.

(Chorus)

Oh, this man’s life, cut down by the night,

In the alley’s gloom, where wrong meets right.

A thief from the guild, ruthless and cold,

Took his last breath, in stories untold.

(Bridge)

In the echoes of darkness, his name will fade,

A life unfulfilled, by a choice poorly made.

The thief, remorseless, slips back to the shade,

While a life’s story ends, in a whisper, betrayed.

(Verse 3)

No chorus of angels, no trumpets of fame,

Just the cruel twist of fate, and a life in flame.

In the city’s heart, where shadows creep,

A lone man fell, into eternal sleep.

(Chorus)

Oh, this man’s life, cut down by the night,

In the alley’s gloom, where wrong meets right.

A thief from the guild, ruthless and cold,

Took his last breath, in stories untold.

(Outro)

In the night’s embrace, where silence dwells,

A tale of a life, in darkness it tells.

One man’s journey, cut short in strife,

In the mystical world of Rukh, where leylines of power converge,

Eight ancient grimoires, their secrets they preserve.

Each tome of magic, a guardian of the land,

Harnessing the leyline’s might with a guiding hand.

1. **Grimoire of Luminaris**:

   A radiant book that channels the leyline of light,

   Illuminating secrets, banishing the night.

   In its pages, the spells of dawn and day,

   It guards the realm with the sun’s bright ray.

2. **Grimoire of Abyssal Shadows**:

   This dark, elusive grimoire, a shadowy tome,

   Draws power from the leyline where darkness finds its home.

   With whispers of twilight, it cloaks and conceals,

   Its spells, a dance of shadows that darkness reveals.

3. **Grimoire of Verdant Vitality**:

   Born from the leyline of nature’s embrace,

   It nurtures the world, with life’s gentle grace.

   In its pages, the secrets of forests and streams,

   It heals and sustains, in the realm of dreams.

4. **Grimoire of Elemental Fury**:

   An elemental force, this grimoire commands,

   The power of fire, water, earth, and air in its hands.

   Storms and flames bend to its ancient decree,

   It guards the world, with nature’s symphony.

5. **Grimoire of Ethereal Winds**:

   From the leyline of skies, where winds intertwine,

   This grimoire soars, where birds and dreams combine.

   With the breath of the heavens, it guides and it soars,

   Unveiling the secrets that the firmament stores.

6. **Grimoire of Crystalline Whispers**:

   In the depths of the earth, where crystals reside,

   This grimoire’s power, from the leyline inside.

   Gems and minerals, it weaves and it shapes,

   It guards the world with earth’s hidden landscapes.

7. **Grimoire of Forgotten Time**:

   A tome that’s ancient, where ages converge,

   From the leyline of time, it draws its surge.

   With visions of past and future entwined,

   It guards the world with the threads of time.

Now in the echoes of time, Redvein remains,

A misunderstood soul, in life’s intricate chains.

In the tapestry of dreams, where reality may sway,

He’s a pariah and a mystic, in his own unique way.

In the shadowed heart of the Thieves’ Guild’s domain,

Where secrets were whispered and fortunes to gain,

A band of small mice, so cunning and wise,

Sought entrance to the guild, to their own surprise.

They approached the guild’s door, tails held high,

With whiskers twitching, reaching for the sky.

The guild’s master, with a grin on his face,

Saw potential in them, in this unlikely case.

“Welcome, dear mice,” he said with a smirk,

“To our guild of thieves, where the shadows lurk.

In your tiny paws, I see courage and grace,

You’ll earn your place here, in this secret space.”

.

.

• This is the end. Thank you for reading my crappy little poetry and story book. It’s very rough, I didn’t try to edit it or rewrite anything. I think next time I will edit and rewrite, making for more interesting writing ✍️. But I am impressed by how well A.I. can create dark and macabre material. The capacity it has to create is inspiring me little by little. I used ChatGPT to write these lite bits of prose. Again, thank you for reading.

• 50% of all sales will be donated to organizations that help children grow and develop. Because I was always a curious kid, and everything held such a sense of wonder to me. I want to nurture that flame of creation, haha.

Quote the raven, Nevermore!

The spirits, now lost In their spectral games, paid no heed to the living intruder, for they were trapped in an eternal night of their own making. The nightmarish echoes of their dark rhymes reverberated through the abandoned orphanage, a haunting reminder of the innocence that had been twisted into malevolence in the realm of the lost spirits. Muahahahahaha! 🦇🦇🦇

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