Shadow Weaver

In darkness, she crafts her veil, A mysterious figure, shrouded and pale. With fingers deft, she weaves her spell, A tangled web of shadows that compel. The mask she wears, a metallic sheen, Conceals her face, and all unseen. Her eyes, like voids, where darkness reigns, Yet, in her touch, a story remains. The branches twist, a thorny nest, A symbol of the secrets she has guessed. In this dark art, she finds her might, A weaver of shadows, a mystic in sight. With every thread, a tale is spun, A narrative of power, just begun. Her hands, a blur of motion and art, As she creates, a new heart. In the darkness, she finds her light, A guiding force, that shines so bright.