Picture 6

Finally my slumber was peacefully quiet,

I awake to the dawn yet try to deny it.

The enticing screams which had filled my dreams,

Avoided the scenes or so it does seem.

There were no dark nightmares to haunt my vision,

Stare at the dark ask my eyes permission.

To view if the wood resembles my memory,

“Ever changing to ones cruelest fantasy”.

Those words now run through my marrow and bone,

A chilling cold whispers I’m not alone.

So now fear holds my trembling eyelids in place,

As a death blowing wind dances on my face.

My thoughts collect and reflect for me the past,

Where dreams and reality constantly clashed.

…

I was haunted by the grip of a forest enchanted,

Into my dreams it did slip deemed by him as dark magic.

That old traveler … given the position of village wise man,

Rumors say he went to hell and back thus knowing the devils plan.

“The forest is a portal, but demons can’t simply rush through the gate”,

“They need fear and menace or at least one with a raging dormant hate”.

I don’t believe you I ranted every chance I had,

Their one argument “it’s true” pleading please don’t make him mad.

For years this continued I grew disgusted by their fear,

They sacrificed goats for something which was never real clear.

So after a decade of blood was spilled in vain,

I was forced in the mud and he whispered my name.

God grew weary of goats and he wanted a human life,

A preferable atheist who was without a wife.

And for all my ranting I was the perfect choice,

Every time he was put down it was my voice.

So I was banned exiled outcast to never return,

Few had gone before me fate made it to be my turn.

Pushed into the forest to fend for myself,

Not a single word not even take care of yourself.

Those that went before me out of courage they went,

I lacked that same inspiration … no I was sent.

So after a few hours walk into a place where the sun doesn’t shine,

I laid my head on a bed of leaves to ease and relieve my mind.

Sleep came quick but so did awakening,

My body reacted to something approaching.

But as I am sure it’s right before me I’m scared to behold it,

It’s heavily breathing as if it’s unable to control it.

My rage my disgust are gone but fear does stick,

As I hear a voice say in 3 tones “YOU” my eyes open quick.

My pupils adjust to the image as I hold my breath,

The image is now clear this visage is death.