Musings of the Insane

Forest of Death

Lost by myself,

in the woods of Death,

where the trees cry the blood of their victims,

feeding off of anyone stupid enough to get caught.

**

They weep blood and echo the screams

the sounds louder than a thousand cannons.

They let no lucky ray of light past,

the darkness consuming everything.

**

I scream covering my ears,

hoping I can keep out the sounds,

but I feel the roots beginning to encircle me,

intent on killing me and stealing my soul.

**

So I run, ignoring the pain in my ankle,

I think I strained it,

but the threat of death propels my forward,

the greatest motivation.

**

There has to be an end somewhere,

but I can't see it, no matter how hard I look.

Is it there, do I just need to run a little farther?

Or will I run forever, never escaping this hell?

**

Either way, I have to run,

because it isn't in me to give up.

No weapons, no way of defending myself,

but I will fight regardless, never surrendering.

**

Dead as the soldiers on the front-lines,

I tell myself constantly, I am already dead,

so why not be brave now that there is nothing to fear?

Why not fight as hard as I can before I die?

**

But my bravery wavers and collapses,

as do I,

and while I can't give in,

now I can't get up.

**

But I watch the trees stretch towards me,

determined to drag me into the earth

and make as if I never was,

then killing me slowly, suffication from the earth.

**

Pain in so many forms, each more painful than the rest,

Can't breathe, can't move, can't fight, fading fast,

feeling the earth grinding over you,

the roots tearing their way into your body.

**

I feel myself dying,

but not fast enough,

forced to suffer through it,

but at least I can't see it, so that helps. Right?