The Vessel pt 1 - A Blighted Vale I

The Vessel pt. 1 - A Blighted Vale (pt 1/2) A solitary figure off the beaten path, The air a palpable gloom Be it mortal or shade of someone passed, No longer in want of a tomb Betwixt a shuffling gait and steady pace, A sole impression leaves foliage displaced This mark being the only telltale trace It may be of flesh and blood, And not trick of the moon At a glance— one clothed in religion, Or belief in superstition, May perchance, mistake this form, For haunting apparition Till the snapping of dry twigs and leaves, Ragged garments snagging trees, Footfalls placing fauna ill at ease— This IS flesh and blood, Allaying all doubt and suspicion A weathered woman of years gone passed, Innocence of youth, —long ago Whose leathery hide, worn and cracked, Lays bare a tale of hardship and woe Though she's endured this life cruel, Her gaze still pierces deepest blue, That belies a fire 'neath azure pools Her body a shell, scorned and wracked, But the eyes, —windows to the soul This corporeal form— not shade, But mere mortal deduced Wrapped in cloth tattered and frayed, Sway from limbs like hangman's noose Though the night's biting chill, ill-favored, She does not stumble, falter nor waver Not till completion of one final labor Then, Death take hold the reins, And shuffle the mortal coil loose Through the tangle, muck and mire— Every inch of pernicious terrain— Punishes flesh, but heart's desire, Stokes the embers that keep her soul aflame Aided by moon's celestial lighting, Quells the fear within from rising, As journey's end meets the horizon, A blighted vale where devils conspire— Where darkness and despair hold domain