Daughters of the Night

by Ava Bard

Moonlight spills like molten steel, a forge in twilight woods, 

Where fireflies ignite the moss, like lightning in their hoods. 

Beneath the oak, a gnarled tattoo, the circle starts to hum, 

Whispers laced with razor fangs, a fairy coven's drum.

No Tinkerbell with glittered wings, no petals soft and sweet, 

These pixies bleed obsidian, their laughter forged in heat.

With thorns they weave their battle songs, and nightmares take to flight, 

These are the queens of ironclad, the daughters of the night.

Their eyes, twin emeralds set ablaze, with whispers born of bone, 

They spin their tales of shattered moons, a throne built on the unknown. 

A thousand years etched in their bark, of wars with shadows old, 

Where stardust burns like napalm rain, and whispers turn to gold.

No Tinkerbell with glittered wings, no petals soft and sweet, 

These pixies bleed obsidian, their laughter forged in heat. 

With thorns they weave their battle songs, and nightmares take to flight, 

These are the queens of ironclad, the daughters of the night.

So tread with caution, mortal man, who stumbles on their scene, 

A spider's web of moonlight spun, with fangs unseen, obscene. 

They'll lure you with honeyed lies, a dance of twisted rhyme, 

Then feast upon your marrow bright, and leave you lost in time.

No Tinkerbell with glittered wings, no petals soft and sweet,

These pixies bleed obsidian, their laughter forged in heat. 

With thorns they weave their battle songs, and nightmares take to flight, 

These are the queens of ironclad, the daughters of the night.

So when the wind screams through the leaves, a metal-laced decree, 

Beware the whisper on the breeze, the queens of faerie. 

For they rule the twilight's iron grip, with thorns and starlight bound, 

These creatures of the blackened moon, where whispers rip the ground.