A path, blood red from dying leaves,
Journeys to a foreboding occult place
Yet, it seems to call out my name
And my curious soul needs to
Wander amidst the tunnel of trees,
Become lost, lost in thought as well,
On a quest to conquer the wild, the
Unknown, to emerge victorious in
Making my way out of the tangled
Trees, and out of my tangled thoughts.
Ahead, I can see a foggy light.
© Connie Marcum Wong