Originally from The Gnarly Oak by Ryan Griffiths
I fled to the night and ran from the known,
The shadows lurked; into monsters they’d grown –
I was prey for the hunt in a forest of old.
Under the canopy I walked far and deep,
Full of fear for the monsters that creep;
Among those woods my faith must be bold.
With only the light of the full moon to hide –
I could clearly see – my problems a guide.
On I went to let my anxieties unfold.
There opened a clearing, enclosed by the grim.
Even in night, these trees were not dim;
Untouched by man were these oaks of the wold.
They were capable of magic – not evil, nor divine –
And cast on me a spell of which I have seen no kind;
Soon a dark, unknown power I began to behold.
I stabbed my hand deep to dig through the mud;
Paying no heed to my hand’s dripping blood
‘Till I stood bottomed in a pit that I myself holed.
Now I live lost, in this spell bound abyss,
I chat with demons along the fiery Styx –
Always, I am stuck on my walk through the woods –
But only here, can my wandering’s tales be told.
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