The Moth Diaries, Poetry
2005-09-25 17:09:44 (UTC)

Poem 80- Out in the Woods

out in the woods

its where the wicked children play, where
all that will be eventual is
and all that should become realised
is never quite found.

out in the woods

at night i see plumes of fear rising
from the misty depths of the wood,
it calls me, begs me to worship the devil
at my souls price, screams to me
though no mortal ear can hear.

out in the woods

the scars of decisions taken by those before
lie embeded in the dirt path,
the path that leads no where and yet i need to follow-
death and danger, pain and passion
rejoice in the celebration of this emotion.

out in the woods

carrion crows, black lucyfers horns
horse shoe foot prints in the earthy blackness,
ill run along this line until i meet my end-
ill play in the woods whether they bring me nearer or
ill love these woods as i roll in the dirty leaves.

out in the woods.

© Lucy Griffin Sep05

Try a new drinks recipe site