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Don't forget your compass |
Into the Woods I ran into the darkest woods, to bleak and scary lands The blackest folds and deepest hoods, to find out where I stand A forest feared far too long and much too late embraced Found dancing to a different song, to beats spent prior... chaste Seeking an alliance, longed 'neath canopies of trees, Through muted vows of silence, wronged ... the muffling of pleas More than one might think they would, with wrong turns through the maze Somewhere, somehow misunderstood, amidst the waifs and strays Naked as the day we're born, to textures black and white I made my self a bed of thorns, to sleep on through the night Yet in the forest, colours bleed, we see the shades of grey Left colour blind, we don't take heed, or hear what they say The voices of the forest call, they call for those who care, who care to listen, take their falls, it speaks to those who dare It speaks to those who bear the scars, that only time incurs Like fireflies, we're stored in jars, as fate so fleeting, blurs Times arrow flies one way, alone, regardless how we try With first impressions cast in stone, as scenery rips by Tripping over stops we find, stops we wish could stay Locked on route with ties that bind, worn ropes, so tired, fray Fretting what I'm fearing, fraught yet never knowing why 'midst chaos in the clearing, caught such seasons, they do fly A flight of fancy, flown its way, ... or stranded on the ground To the hands of fate we play, we deal with what's found Discovered in the undergrowth, 'neath calluses, time formed Locked into ourselves, betrothed with paths well travelled, worn Yet somewhere of the beaten track, a kindred fire burns Scouting round and swinging back, so cautious in our turns Through formerly avoided woods, dark days drenched in such doubt I get to where a camp once stood ... the fires always out Extinguished but for ember's burn, still hot beneath the ash A season's story, pages turn, a midnight forest dash A walk I'd wanted far too long, a journey incomplete, a start, a sense... I don't belong, the sins that we repeat in blackest folds and deepest woods, through bleak and scary lands Salvations found in darkest hoods, ... I now know where I stand |