In the silent night, a crimson glow, A bloodmoon rises, soft and slow. Its eerie light, a haunting grace, A spectral orb in dark embrace. Shadows dance on whispered winds, As ancient tales the twilight spins. A celestial dream in scarlet hue, A mystic sky, both old and new. The world below in stillness stares, As bloodmoon casts its tender snares. A fleeting glimpse of time’s own lore, A night to keep forevermore.
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