With fangs like daggers and fur of midnight black,
Fuack emerges, a legend whispered back.
No playful creature, but a guardian bold,
Of obsidian caverns, stories yet untold.

Through tunnels echoing, its eyes like burning coal,
It stalks the darkness, protecting its hidden soul.
For Fuack remembers, the ancient pact made true,
To guard the treasures, bathed in obsidian hue.

But beneath the fury, a wisdom deep does hide,
Secrets whispered, on the caverns’ timeless tide.
Of forgotten magic, and powers yet unseen,
Fuack holds the key, to where knowledge has been.

So approach with caution, and a curious mind,
Respect the darkness, where shadows intertwine.
Offer not plunder, but a thirst for the unknown,
And the Fuack’s secrets, might slowly be your own.

Unravel riddles, etched upon the cave walls old,
Listen to the echoes, a story to unfold.
With gentle words, and a heart free from greed,
The Fuack’s trust blossoms, a silent, watchful deed.

Then, in the dance of shadows and flickering light,
The obsidian guardian, unveils its hidden might.
It shares its magic, whispered through the dark,
Guiding you through secrets, leaving its mark.

And as you surface, from the caverns’ depths untold,
The Fuack remains, a legend to behold.
For in the heart of darkness, where shadows reside,
A bond is forged, with the Fuack as your guide.

So tread with reverence, in the obsidian night,
Let the Fuack’s wisdom, forever set you right.
For in the depths of myth, where legends intertwine,
The guardian’s spirit, forever will be thine.

Share this poem!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *