GUEST POST // The Wooden King by Obsidian Visionary

Crown of moss upon an oaken head,
Streaks of starlight woven in a thread.
Darkness engulfs his city of thieves,
Soon he too shall sprout blood red leaves.
Like an age old elm tree, roots he shall sprout,
Turned into a mighty tree preserved even from drought.
The Wooden King shall pay for his ghastly sins,
For in the end Karma always wins.


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