strange comfort
strange comfort
long ago was born
the ritual, the celebration
formed and based upon
the changing of the seasons,
the ebb and flow of tides,
the phases of the moon
all of these are constant
all are fixed and faithful
looked upon as common
overlooked, anticipated
reveled or yet, ignored
expected or assumed
the years have seen changes
and some adaptations
wondrous revelations
with silences between
tirelessly sought after
ever waxing, waning
energy not lost
only changing form
always comes again
wild and raw and welcomed
some things will never change
the ritual remains
"I can't believe the sorcerer's dream has come, and never chosen one of us..."
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