The Keyhole



An upturned flask set in gold,
the glint of a curious eye;
the scrape of knees on stone,
and a small muffled cry.

An adventure unlike another,
a world like none else;
towering wood brother,
to luring minstrels.

Whispered words entice,
flame to a besotted moth;
enraptured twins the eyes,
behold as if wroth.

The bliss of the forbidden,
yearned by all indeed;
yet it is in innocence hidden,
that from which all seed.




– to know my interpretation of this poem, lemme know in the comments or hop into the DMs ~(°-°)~


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