The forest holds the secrets of the soft spoken Raven Girl
Who dances under the setting sun in the eve of cold November
Leaves crunch under the crisp, dry ground
And glimmers of fairies frolic amongst the thorns
The trees groan and sway with the harsh breath of wind
Carrying secret whispers of the tales of olden days
And with a snap of a twig from a human foot
The Raven Girl vanishes without a trace
-By Lauren Pfieffer-
With much love, Lauren
