In the heart of my world, there stands a soft grace,
The Octagon – a symbol – my own sacred space.
A building where balance and harmony reign,
A refuge where energies can heal every pain.
A place where the sound and light intertwine,
Energy flowing, serene and divine.
In every corner, renewal takes root,
Transformation blooms, like a vibrant young shoot.
It encourages growth, by shedding the past,
Old identities fade, but insight will last.
Grounded in Earth, it stands with great pride,
A sanctuary where the soul can reside.
A dragon named Dragina guards by the door,
Her strength and her foresight – forever more.
With ancient wisdom, she lies so serene,
A protector of all, a kind silent queen.
The grand number eight, with everlasting might,
Unites us to self and ignites the light
Connecting to magic, both far and then near,
In the Octagon, all is transparently clear.
A revered place of healing, of growth and of peace,
Where all inner turmoil may find its release.
The Octagon calls – its aura so wide,
A home for the spirit, with nothing to hide.