She wanders down the path, so serene
or so it seems
around the bend
the path gets bright
the golden haze
alters her gaze
illuminates’ images ahead
hearts in white
there is no strife
purest of love
that can only be from above
Suddenly they turn to black
ready for attack
she needs to go back
It’s too late
she fears her fate
as they engage in the chase
She has to find her way back
only vines obscure her path
mangled tree roots pull at her feet
she can no longer retreat
This fortress
once again
encompasses her mind
why is trust in mankind so hard to find?
Jane, wonderful poem. Trust is so difficult to find sometimes. Sometimes I feel the way the protagonist does.
Woooo boy. I feel this one. I’ve run back
Into those vines way too many times.