Deep in forests gloomy, where trails are hard to find.
A maze of bush and climber, one might as well be blind.
To stumble in its darkness and seek to find your way.
Scrapes and scratches paint you; crimson arms and legs.
Speckled lights, playful dance, betrays the senses to confound
Pops and cracks echo long with the forest’s living sound
Fears like bile rise within to creep and crawl along the spine
Whispers seem to drift about, worry urges that we resign
Our minds refuse to calm and ease we scream and flail about
To slump resigned having given up, there’s simply no way out

07/18/2019

Posted on 07/18/2019
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