The Moonlit Path

Many trails cross in a hidden forest,

I seek to find their end,

Plenty tales lost, omitted stories,

Grief, there dwells within,

Any gain gotten from forbidden glory,

Is lost when time reveals,

Strange fruit swinging laced with rigor mortis,

From winds that never still,

Yet and still I walk forward,

Through the mud that tires my legs,

In fear that this will worsen,

To crows I bow my head,

Though others may go past me,

I hope they won’t forget me soon,

The life encamped in darkness,

Walking the path, lit by the moon