I chose the path to the deepest part of the forest
I chose the dark,
Indeed I needed it.
The trees were all but dead,
Instead of leaves
The gnarled and blackened limbs
Adorned with red eyed bats
Who stared accusingly
At me.
I clasped a leaden casket to my breast,
Within
I stored my many sins
For burial.
I had held them in my soul
For far too long
And now their song
Must end.
A fetid breeze
Blew sharpened leaves
To sear and scar me.
The faces of the dead
Still permeate
And whine
Within my head,
Their dreadful cries are no surprise to me,
But now I must be free.
I chose a gnarled and blackened oak
And spoke a silent prayer
Then buried my leaden casket
There.
My task complete
I point my feet
Toward a distant light
That might just be my salvation.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn
