Forest - where the path pulls me
A small path I see,
Inviting me with silent plea.
Yet unwelcoming are its looks,
Like the warnings in forgotten books.
The eerie silence that I feel,
Though surrounded by vibrant green,
Makes me wonder what is real,
And what this place might truly mean.
What could I do?
For it makes me shoo.
Yet despite its unpleasantness,
I find myself walking.
Wondering what I was thinking,
Yes—walking into it.
Moving forward are my feet,
Though I have no control of it.
Though my mind rejects,
My body projects
A will that is not my own,
Leading me deeper, alone.
All I could do was hope,
For I could find no rope
To hold onto,
No sign of my presence,
No reminder of my essence.
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