A Young Boy's Scary Walk Through a Dark Woods At Night

Although I’m late, my pace is slow The woods are dark, my path to go. Each sound, a host of unseen brutes That lurk amongst the tangled roots Of trees that line my pitch-black route. I want to scream, I want to shout And yet a light, though faint ahead A beacon to my waiting bed Soon steps through welcome bolstered door Assure me that I’m safe once more