The old forest.

by Aug 5, 2003Poetry

The shivering branches grasp at the wind,
Greedy hands gaping forth,
Hollow moans creak in the trees,
And the sun is blocked by the leaves.

Humid steeps wake hunger and thirst,
And uneasy sleep moves the boughs,
While shifting paths change upon the floor,
Leading travelers forever.

Untamed magic reeks in the air,
Angry spirits to wake,
Silent revenge upon all whom disturb,
Wrath stewed form ages and myth.

Footsteps walk upon unmapped terrain,
The river in the wake of trees swells,
And the midday sun rises o’er all other land,
And all sense of time is lost.


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Found in Home 5 Reading Room 5 Poetry 5 The old forest.

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