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The Eclectic Pen - Woods

By: Matt K. (Moforious)   + 11 more  
Date Submitted: 1/29/2008
Last Updated: 1/29/2008
Genre: Literature & Fiction » Poetry
Words: 134


Land of the Slavs, now Christianized
the ways of old quickly fading
new generations have closed their eyes
but belief still flows, with decrepit old crones
with their ancient spells and remedies. Oh, they know!

The trees have eyes, so it is told
by these old women, wrinkled, smelling of mold
"Cross not the river, for beyond lays death!"
"In the woods of the old gods!"
these words carried by their fetid breath

Their warnings not always heeded, voices croak in vain
when every so often, one finds himself brave
"Such stories! Not true! I shall go explore!"
so with purpose he marches, towards wooded gloom
Days pass,the family waits, and still no return

Sorrow is expressed, mourning now done
the village has lost another young son
they shake their heads, "Oh what a shame!"
but the crones, they laugh
for by the old gods he's been claimed

The Eclectic Pen » All Stories by Matt K. (Moforious)

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Comments 1 to 2 of 2
Claudia (BrokenWing) - 1/29/2008 7:21 PM ET
Lots of good atmosphere.
Marta J. (booksnob) - 1/30/2008 3:14 PM ET
Another good one!
Comments 1 to 2 of 2