It calls to you.
Its black fingers calling you into their grasp.
Is it the water or the creatures that lie below that pull you in?
The moon reflects off the perfectly still surface.
Wind rustles through the leaves of the bushes that surround it.
There is no one around.
It is only you.
The forest in the distance
The castle even farther
The wind
The water
Calling you in.
No magic, no matter how strong,
Can draw you away
From this sadness.
No spell ever cast
Can counter the call
Of The Black Lake.
A/N:
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