Of Prophets and Druid's Robes

The Sounds of Silence fill the Prophets Moot,  and Sun has risen with nothing new to quote.. 

Much like in the Ice of Ages how the ancient Druids wrote. 

Today the Oak is without Leaves.

And the trunk has no deep roots. 

Yet except for Bling most Druids have no Boots.

Still  the snow is deep and the Earth cries in pain.

The Old Gods fold their wings and look down in shame.

("I
am a Druid, I am an architect, I am a prophet, I am a Adder"
declaration of a Druid) 

But that was before the Worship of demon's Iron and the fall of the Fae.

Yet both the Gods and the Earth long for yesterday.

TDK

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