I walk through an ancient, gloomy forest.
Everything is shrouded in a dark fog,
flowing over the contours of the earth.
Uncertainty floods my mind, warping what I see and hear.
In the distance, an owl faintly asks his question.
I spin around, again and again.
Faint padding. The cracking of a twig.
Wind howling, fear takes my head.
A flash of grey, gone as if never there.
I flit about, glancing this way and that…
A faint moon reveals my horrors.
A half dozen wolves, grey and black,
crouching before me, ready to snap.
I stumble away, my back now against a tree.
They close in, readying themselves.
I unveil my dagger, but to my dismay and distress,
the wolves are like no other.
Transforming on spot, into those whom I love,
I think, “Am I strong enough for this?”
Before I conclude, they strike with speed.
And before I conclude, my horrors are gone.
Before I conclude, I’m hearing Death’s psalm.