The tale of the night

The night can’t handle 
His felicity and his joy 
It still sees in him a broken
Sunken and shattered soul 
The night is not used to 
Such transfiguration 
It won’t let the butterfly soar 
It decalres that he’s not a creature of the dark 
But tonight he can not falter 
No matter the jibe 
He is ready to break 
The shackles of time and tide 
The sword in the stone awaits 
The night roars its thunder
She rains her fiercest downpour
But the rain gods had with him
One long held agreement 
They’d promised to let him 
To let him, at his will 
And tonight’s opportune 
The eve of Odin’s day 
The night gives in too
For it feels alive again.

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