ShadowsCool
06-14-2012, 11:26 PM
The Forest
The shadows bent in the undergrowth
Underneath the brooding dark forest
That looked, at least high enough, to be touched by the clouds.
And surely there lay a permanent mist
Within its arms of dead branches
That hung nestled against the green
And ivory crawlers on each and every tree.
Now night fell particularly deep that Saturday evening,
For even the howls sounded a certain forbearing,
Like a warning bow to all who should ever step foot.
So there I stood and my shadow in the periphery
On an open field with weeds as high as the knee;
It was such a forbidding scene, if not for
The company of a full moon gazing down from heaven
Which might have assured even the most faint hearted.
Yet certainly it was not enough,
For even a demon could feel the coldness pervade the air
But harvest time it was
And so there I stood in the will of nature
In the open canopy, enlightened by the moon.
And there I heard a moment of silence,
Even the crickets stopped cricketing.
And there, deep I looked into the bleak darkness
As if it took hold of me, telling me, it was my master-
Must that I obey, or else my heart would fall to its silence
And I would have to sojourn another way.
But far I have come on my travels,
And as such, really there was no other way.
I figured a mile or so in and I'd be through the other side
And I'd be safely on my journey onto the strangers house,
Where I'd look to spend a rest or two, until the morning light,
And then be on my way.
So from my compass I cut a pass through my mind
And looked upon a stand of tree's that made a row,
At least, as far as the eye could see
Or the moon could shine on to.
So from there I decided to go
And from inside the canopy
The calls of the howls grew much louder,
And from the sky there I could see
The moon as a forlorn figure following me.
And with me was this tiny beam of light
Just beading off the pile of leaves
And nothing more;
Enough perhaps for fifteen feet ahead
And then darkness,
Which was now stiffly surrounding me.
And then at last it happened.
Not by design, but of happenstance of nature.
For as I turned to look back
I stumbled badly on a row of dead limps
And fell forward
Severely twisting my leg and ankle.
And making it worst
The very beam that allowed me to see
Was thrown from me,
Into some undergrowth
To where I could not see,
Killing its flimsy covering
Making it all impossible to see.
And worst still,
My leg I could not free,
For it was broken
Inside the twist of tree.
And now it began to dawn on me,
I was at the mercy of the thing I feared the most;
That thing that was moving in on me.
And as I drew my breath one deep time
I saw my conquest stand in front of me,
With no look of mercy,
But with eyes as black coals
And a soul as dark as all hell.
And the darkness grew deeper still,
And the onetime glittering moon
Hid deeper and deeper behind a shroud of cloud;
And nothing was heard anymore,
And the only sound was a black vulture taking off,
And nothing more.
The shadows bent in the undergrowth
Underneath the brooding dark forest
That looked, at least high enough, to be touched by the clouds.
And surely there lay a permanent mist
Within its arms of dead branches
That hung nestled against the green
And ivory crawlers on each and every tree.
Now night fell particularly deep that Saturday evening,
For even the howls sounded a certain forbearing,
Like a warning bow to all who should ever step foot.
So there I stood and my shadow in the periphery
On an open field with weeds as high as the knee;
It was such a forbidding scene, if not for
The company of a full moon gazing down from heaven
Which might have assured even the most faint hearted.
Yet certainly it was not enough,
For even a demon could feel the coldness pervade the air
But harvest time it was
And so there I stood in the will of nature
In the open canopy, enlightened by the moon.
And there I heard a moment of silence,
Even the crickets stopped cricketing.
And there, deep I looked into the bleak darkness
As if it took hold of me, telling me, it was my master-
Must that I obey, or else my heart would fall to its silence
And I would have to sojourn another way.
But far I have come on my travels,
And as such, really there was no other way.
I figured a mile or so in and I'd be through the other side
And I'd be safely on my journey onto the strangers house,
Where I'd look to spend a rest or two, until the morning light,
And then be on my way.
So from my compass I cut a pass through my mind
And looked upon a stand of tree's that made a row,
At least, as far as the eye could see
Or the moon could shine on to.
So from there I decided to go
And from inside the canopy
The calls of the howls grew much louder,
And from the sky there I could see
The moon as a forlorn figure following me.
And with me was this tiny beam of light
Just beading off the pile of leaves
And nothing more;
Enough perhaps for fifteen feet ahead
And then darkness,
Which was now stiffly surrounding me.
And then at last it happened.
Not by design, but of happenstance of nature.
For as I turned to look back
I stumbled badly on a row of dead limps
And fell forward
Severely twisting my leg and ankle.
And making it worst
The very beam that allowed me to see
Was thrown from me,
Into some undergrowth
To where I could not see,
Killing its flimsy covering
Making it all impossible to see.
And worst still,
My leg I could not free,
For it was broken
Inside the twist of tree.
And now it began to dawn on me,
I was at the mercy of the thing I feared the most;
That thing that was moving in on me.
And as I drew my breath one deep time
I saw my conquest stand in front of me,
With no look of mercy,
But with eyes as black coals
And a soul as dark as all hell.
And the darkness grew deeper still,
And the onetime glittering moon
Hid deeper and deeper behind a shroud of cloud;
And nothing was heard anymore,
And the only sound was a black vulture taking off,
And nothing more.