Crimson Spell

In a room where the candlelight bends,

Ancient pages turn like old friends.

Crystals hum beneath the moon,

And a hidden world begins to bloom.

She wears the fire of a falling star,

Red waves of midnight reaching far.

With one raised hand, the shadows part,

A silver spell awakens in her heart.

Floating scrolls whisper names untold,

Secrets written in ink and gold.

Every symbol, every sign,

Draws a circle through space and time.

The air grows still, the dark takes flight,

Her eyes become two sparks of light.

Run, red flame, through the halls of wonder,

Wake the sleeping sky and split the thunder.

Where the lost hearts fear to go,

She plants a star in the endless snow.

Turn the page, let the old world sing,

Feel the magic in everything.

With a burning soul and a fearless name,

She walks alone, but she is flame.

Amethyst towers catch the glow,

Echoes drift in a violet flow.

The floor is carved with a restless sea,

A map of all that she could be.

Her robe sweeps soft across the ground,

And golden bells make a trembling sound.

No crown can hold, no chain can bind

The wild red river of her mind.

If the night comes dressed in stone,

She will carve a door of her own.

If the stars forget to shine,

She’ll lift the dawn from a single line.

Run, red flame, through the halls of wonder,

Wake the sleeping sky and split the thunder.

Where the lost hearts fear to go,

She plants a star in the endless snow.

Turn the page, let the old world sing,

Feel the magic in everything.

With a burning soul and a fearless name,

She walks alone, but she is flame.

The scrolls grow still, the crystals gleam,

She fades like fire into a dream.

But somewhere beyond the veil of night,

Her crimson spell is still alight.