The Wandering Witch Pt.11

Frost-kissed earth, 
Reborn, ancient throne. 
A realm of shadows, evergrown. 
I weave a magic, dark and deep, 
My slumbering power gently creeps,
Feeds and bleeds my somber weep.
With bated breath, a spell is cast, 
A future forged, true beauty masked.
Healed, but never broken
As new dawn breaks, promise is spoken.