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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
Rating:

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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