#ontariogothic

[silentcitystreetart]

Pull tightly on the rough, barked branches even though they scrape your palms. Beholden is the one who climbs through the Rowen Trees that line the edge of your property. Your distant house looks small compared to the tall, ever reaching trees. Smell earth turned soil as your feet sink into the damp, swollen earth. Decay has taken the lead here, pulling all back towards the earth. Wisps of fog float in stripping you of your warmth and replacing it with bone chilling cold. What parts of you will you leave behind, what parts belong back to the earth?

Decay is not for the parts meant to bloom, clean your wounds and let the flesh grow back in full. The person you are today will greet you tomorrow, it is the healing that will allow you to see the sun within the trees. Walk towards and let the bright warmth overcome your body and warm your bones. The field of becoming.

[silentcitystreetart]

Under the brush lives eyes of invisible flame. Following, witnessing, slipping into the nothingness between the cracks of the forested land. Within the stature of the forest is an eye consecrated with wet moss silk, a dressing of the invisible regards.

[silentcitystreetart]

I burn with the witches spreading flame through all the trees that sowed doubt into the land. It was where the betrayal left husks for a new life to begin to breath again. It is in the whispers in the dark, in the sound of the creek rushing in the night. Allow the owls to sing deep within the lines, they will bring and create the will of the leafless Birch. Sleep softly till the ground beckons your name.

[silentcitystreetart]

I can see only a few kilometers west the rest is an inky black seeping to all that lives. They have emerged, a spark within a flame. Forest Gods carry the knowing of solice for the pines arch west. The oracle of souliec rest has spoken, the moss has awakened.

[silentcitystreetart]

I ache for Ohio. How is my Victorian home doing? Is it still red, white, and blue? Is the lilac still there? Is the playhouse daddy made for me and my sisters still there?

The cornfields are gone. A neighborhood with the same floor plans that are too close together has swallowed them.

There were so many maple trees…

(Feel free to add)

My dear, I'm afraid your home burned away many summer eves ago. Its ashes nourishing the lilac trees as they over take where the hearth once stood. The ambers glowed with such ferocity that winds amoung clear blue skies could not chill the heat. The maples have taken over and have strangled away most of the local flora. Feral deer have made a home with in the dense thicket. Swallowed is the home you knew long ago the times a distant pull within your heart. A murky memory from which the corners of your brain cannot recall. A gray sky has moved in for the long haul as the land mourns the aching ruin of a house without a home.

[silentcitystreetart]

Tendered to the trees forever surrounded by their woody pulse. Entangled ment to the oaks as they spread through out your hair. You're new Armour a compilation of honour, grace, and the essences of a whole seasons worth of harden lichen. Darker it becomes as the trees twist further in, the last hints if sunlight slipping through. Sleep with echos of strong-willed light for even hibernation comes to an end.

[silentcitystreetart]

I offer you a stone with 9 banded rings around it as an offering for a dreamscape.

Thank you for the offering I will add it to my alter. Enjoy.

As the ones who float move swiftly through the clouds, a everending darkness follows. With the brightness of a winters night prepare the fire. Collect from the fallen oak on Semaris Cresent. Ignore the chanting from the neighbour's, thinking of them as soul safety watch. Build the flames, let it engulf the air around you,. Merge with the flame. Normality is a fallace when the veil has fallen.

[silentcitystreetart]

Their lives a house within a band of Oak trees. A place where the darkness mourns the relics of a high time long ago. A crumbling world barely contained by four walls. Sunlight encompasses a flat black roof top, it meads over self as wires of dust floats through the air. Forever fortune within glimmers of light.