in blackwood forest

In Blackwood Forest, where the evil spirits play,

The shadows dance from tree to tree,

Playful for a while, but soon that sunshine dims

And sweetest imps turn nasty in a flash.

I wandered in with such an open heart,

Thinking I was safe, cocooned within the trunks

That twist and turn to form a gilded cage.

But soon those bars became a weight,

A prison, trapped while fingers grasp

My arms, my legs, my hair in tendrils,

Wild and waving in the wintry wind.

The sun has gone and so has innocence,

Those sunlight dappled afternoons

Are just a dream that drifted in the breeze.

2 thoughts on “in blackwood forest

  1. Margot Kinberg

    There is definitely something about the forest that can look alternatively welcoming and eerie. I think that especially happens as the sun goes down or as it gets cold. You’ve captured that so neatly here!

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