Book of Fireflies

Rivers and Trees

I trek at night.

Headed through the bigger picture, leaves and grass coat the floor of my road.
Many a wary traveler look for loot of richer, and many a day again they lose their load.
Through the trees and rivers came a killer, a hero not in sight.

Headed through the bigger picture, blood and brass coat the floor of my road.
Many a wary bandit, took settlement to the Castle on the knoll.
Now the unwary dead inhabit the courtyard, their heads thrown down the hill to roll.

I stop for day.

Headed through the bigger picture, tracks in the mud and death by the mass haunt the road lest travelled.
Many a terrified soldier, claimed the stone for their honest king.
Now they're voiced gossip trembles, choking at the nameless being.

Headed through the bigger picture, campfires burn dimly and beds lay under the grass to hide the brave adventurer.
Almost too many come from afar as the stories lure. Almost too many fall harvest to the cannibal through the rivers and trees.

I trek at night.

All too many have slept when called, but their blood flowed through the night when their soul was lulled. No
common man takes this road to travel, for even armies walk through and come unraveled. Through the rivers and trees,
you can hear the knocking of timber, armor and knees.

Once a hero, who knew evil, now a crazed man turned cannibal. Hungering for flesh, he knows to portray the best of moralized flesh.
No king could ever run, not even through the midday sun