Emerald Enchantress

In twilight's hush, where shadows dance and play, A mystic figure emerges, lost in gray. With leaves entwined, like verdant, living chains, She stands, a vision, born of earthy pains. Her eyes, like sapphires, shining bright and blue, Reflect the secrets, only nature knew. The vines that bind her, a gentle, loving grasp, A symbol of the wild, untamed, and free at last. In this dark, muted world, she shines so bright, A beacon in the night, a guiding light. Her beauty is a balm, a soothing, sweet reprieve, A respite from the world's loud, jarring leave. With every glance, a story unfolds, a tale, Of mystic power, of ancient, whispered gale. The emerald leaves, a crown upon her head, A testament to nature's wisdom, long since dead. In this still moment, time stands still, and fades, As the enchantress weaves her magic, in shades.