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Poem
You've stumbled off the righteous path, into the hushed
Wilderness of the unknown, beware for salvation's sake,
Go back nomad; travel not these paths of no return.
But nay this is the domain of the shades, little is
The light, allowed to seep through the thickets, heavily
Forested canopy.
You hear the underbrush cracking, braking, and freeze.
It's too late for you nomad, for this is death's sacred land.
A place of shadows and darkness, and you are the pray.
It is the scent of fear, drawing these demon dogs of
Damnation's lost, unto your path
Run nomad, for the devil's hounds lie close behind thee,
Those whom need no rest, the depraved, hungering for
The taste of raw flesh, cravings lustful, with an insatiable thirst,
Nay never to be satisfied, instinctual beasts on a blood hunts
Trail.
A packs brethren of the undead, dwelling along the fringes
Of humanity, ever watching, ever aware, just waiting for
The innocent to be caught off guard, than attacking without
Mercy.
Run no mad, for the bastard's of hell's keep, have sensed
Your presence.
In keeping with thy hearts rhythm blood pumps, in unisons
With thy breath,
As exhaustion's limbs tire of this chase, for your lives own
Survival, run nomad, you must move onwards, at any cost.
For the howl of the white fanged, nip at the back of thy heels,
Flee do not take time to gaze behind thee, run nomad,
Refuges salvation lies not far ahead.
A primeval moon glows above thee, illuminating this spectral
Land of the forbidden, it's just then, that you truly realize, the danger
Zone you've entered, as yellow greenish eyes pierce
Through the thickets wild, nomad your surrounded.
Climb to the highest point of observation, as primitive instincts kick in,
But these creatures have all eternity to wait, patient are the kin
To the dead, slippery is the branch, on which humanity grasps,
And beneath lie the tongues of the hungry beast, drooling with
Anticipation feast to come.
In the forest does anyone hear the falling of a tree?
Or the screaming of a nomad, who has lost his way,
Maybe it was just the wind that you have heard,
I wonder, what the noise really was, as it echoes
Deep within the forest of the unknown.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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