In the Woods

Stretching at the very heavens are the braches of autumn, It is becoming the season of death, and mother natures promise Of rebirth is with drawing, leaving nothing behind but stilled Whispering echoes. The very ground itself grows fidgeted, as winters icy finger tips Strangle at earths raw under belly, finally it yields to the pains Agony and nature lies slain, forced into hibernation’s sleep, until Spring breath will awaken it at last, with resurrection’s sweet kiss of life Once more. A screeching black raven clings to the darkening skies, one by one do These harvengers of death land atop the trees icy prongs that bend and Brake beneath their feather weight of distain. Dark eyed demons ever watching, waiting unto the night takes passion Of this world of the living, these sentinels of the demonic peck, and strike At one another with anticipations things to come by night. A stilled silence blankets the forest; nothing stirs except the creaking of The ice in a near by stream, on the path a sobering wind rustles at the deadened Leaves that crackle in the fall breeze. It so creeps forward the feeling of uneasiness, the soft breath blowing against The back neck hairs of humanity, a lumbering heaviness boggs down the air itself, Almost choking the life from all living things in the surrounding venue. Excited the black birds take winged flight, soaring screeching, announcing it Comes, it comes!! Shuttering nature pulls its white snow covering over its very head, she even Wishes not to see, this true face of evil that cometh forward, the ethereal trap Door has been triggered, and what elopes onwards cannot be stopped by Any powers on earth. Blow does the trumpets of heaven, angels take to the winds of destiny, beckoning The evil to with draw, but it mocks at them, screaming in a howling’s rebuking, I listen not to the likes of thee!! Then a light unseen for many a millennium comes forward, it is the light of Everlasting salvation, then creature of darkness shall thee do battle with me, Nay I will with draw, backwards from winnest it came it vaporizes and disappears. In the woods there is a path, never to crossed by humanity, their thou shall not Step, for the essence of evil’s cold chill still lingers, in the autumn chilling wind. BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN