~ Lord Of The Wood ~

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~ Lord Of The Wood ~

The forest night was cold and damp,
the moonlit trees were looming,
like crooked beings from another land,
menacing, though unassuming.

This raises not a care at all,
to the old man sitting there,
with his worn down face and bony hands,
grey eyes and pure white hair.

His face hidden beneath his hat,
doesn’t allow to show,
the stare in the old man’s face,
a stare as cold as stone.

Poising on the rotting log,
his fire now burning low,
not a sound, not a whisper,
on the forest floor below.

His supper sits, remains untouched,
the ants feasting at his feet,
still he stares out into the trees,
nothing shifting the old man’s seat.

Far away, a bird calls,
he’s known the forest as a friend,
it’s given shelter, food and water,
and peace until the end.

Now he leaves the harsh new world,
though his soul remains unmoved,
the wild horses of the forest,
carry his spirit on their hooves.

Angelwolf