Walk softly through the woodland ride

A thousand years lay deep inside.

For now the sun has said goodbye,

And dusk's dark cloak has dimmed the sky.


The wood of beauty has changed it's way,

A sun kissed jewel by warmth of day

Has become a place of primal fears.

And spirits haunt those thousand years.


Beside the paths, the mist filled glades

Hold hidden terrors from ancient days.

Wraith like forms will catch your eye,

Reach out with claws as you pass by.


Something whispers through the trees,

It calls to you, your footsteps freeze.

It writhes up through a leafy grave-

Your heart to stop, your Soul enslave.


So walk you softly through the ride,

For while you walk, you must decide

Are things of myth a truth to share

Does terror really lie in there? 





Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wonder if we all hold primeval fears from our ancestors,carried through the generations. Or whether they are just in our own imaginations.??

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Wordman's picture

To fear the dark and its

To fear the dark and its mysteries requires imagination. To conquer the dark requires intelligence.

To accept the dark requires sanity. I plead guilty to only the first.

Nice write, thourghly enjoyable.

sweetwater's picture

Quite scared myself writing

Quite scared myself writing it! It's difficult to curb one's imagination when it's dark all around. :-) X