The Dark Woods are calling me,
beckoning for me to follow,
follow deep into the woods of peace,
calling, ever calling for me to follow.
And I must follow them, follow on and on,
wander among the whispering trees,
whispering by the pond,
whispering in the breeze.
Whispering my name, calling me further in,
on and on I will walk paying no heed to the passing time,
just looking for places I have not been
up on a hill I climb,
above the trees, and all I see is woods,
here I will rest on the rocky hillside,
and in the morning keep on, in the dark woods.
Alysianne DeSha
Unknown "loca" Wild
- 16 years, 6 months, 8 days ago