A narrow trail, an abandoned rail,
The mystical sound of a million quail,
Sweeping darkness, the forest swale,
A sky above that’s colored shale.
I’ve come too far, I’ve lost my trail,
The heart’s racing, I can’t turn tail,
I hurriedly scurry, my color pale,
I hear a sound, a distant wail…
What was that? What did assail?
“Ah, broken twig, you made me frail!”
My mind is frantic, I’m ready to bail,
A drizzle, a shower, and now there’s hail!
Watery eyes, twitching entrails,
It’s time to run, I can heed no ail.
A thunder strikes, a flash unveils,
The last tree behind, I’m out in the vale.
A sigh of relief, a long exhale,
I now trudge down, the pace of a snail.
Oh, what a night, oh what a trail,
Woods long gone, shadows prevail.
In warmth of fire, comfort of ale,
I chuckle and recall, my friends regale.
“Beneath the clouds, above the dale,
There lie the woodlands, a haunted’s tale!”
