Tired days, Maturing daylight, Time has come.
Long forgotten thoughts, Forlorn hopes: All this is mine. Darkening ways, Wafts of mist, Point my way.
So you adore my shape, And you love my mind, And you like my spells? Then take my hand! I'll be your guide: To Octoberland.
I show you, The lost souls, In your attic,
The beautiful creatures, In your cellar, You've not noticed, You've never seen— The monsters, Under your stairs,
I make you see, What lingers, In the dark,
Where we will think, Autumn thoughts, And dream autumn dreams,
That shall reign, Under grey marbled skies, Spanning short windy days,
And long stormy nights, In which I will lead, You deep into eternal fall.
Come then—take my hand, I'll be your guide, To Octoberland. Alas! beware! If you follow me there, Not to get lost in the dark.
Be—aware! I will always part!
I'm a solitary witch.—
— Carla Fischer, “Octoberland” iam.carlafischer.de