In shadows thick where shadows breed,
Fae Aduin writhe and hunt and feed–
On dreams unspoken, thoughts half-made,
on embers bright and hopes unswayed.
They thrive on warmth they cannot feel,
on joy they choke and swiftly steal;
To those who wander, lost and dim,
they whisper, crooning dark dark hymns.
With fingers black and sinewed thin,
they snatch at hearts from deep within,
Leaving but an empty shell, a hollowed husk,
a lightless well.
In caves where sun has never dwelt,
‘neath twisted roots where earth has knelt,
They plot and murmur, curse and frown,
dragging hapless souls down down down.
Once, in ages known to none
(but crumbling stones and stars undone)
The Aduin supped merrily on mortal fears.
They’d pull the breath from poet’s lips,
drain painter’s brush of hues and quips,
Devour thoughts uncast in form—
no hope untouched, no dream unborn.
For though old tales all fade to dust,
Children know, as faeries must,
the peril shadows breathe and stir.
Fae Aduin tread where moonlight shuns,
their shadows silent, swift they pass—
and leave in wake a chill that runs
through marrow, thought, and shivering skin,
a touch that stills, and strikes within.
And they belong to Her and Him,
the Darkened Shadows of Light’s disdain,
They loathe each dawn, each star, each flame
And all that dare defy their name.
In that place where all brightness fades,
all colors wilt, all kindness wanes,
And hope itself, so rare and frail,
lies gutted, shackled, bound in chains.
So wise men claim, to soothe their night,
that monsters dwell in stories bright.
But all who’ve heard their hushed refrain
know Fae Aduin still stalk their prey,
For in the dark where secrets keep,
they stir and watch while dreamers sleep.
And once your spark catches their eye,
beware your doom it waits nearby.
