Raided Sanctuary
A poem about the spot in which I've been camping.
May 1, 2026 · 1 min read

The darkness descends,
As the moon rises.
This won’t be the end,
Without surprises.
The rats come to play,
And I hiss and growl.
The sirens waylay,
As coyotes howl.
Blessed be, am I,
For this piece of land.
Water, earth, and sky,
Light brought by my hand.
It’s often serene,
As nature demands.
Though, there’s a new scene,
Tainting with sick hands.
I won’t stay here long,
A leg of my trek.
I’ll miss the bird’s song,
I’ll leave not one feck.
A sanctuary,
Raided by goblins.
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