The Forest's Storyteller

A dank wooded forest,
With a dead-limbed tree’s silhouette
Setting the evening.
Three sheep that stray from their shepherd
Into daunting black woods,
Encounter a residence of gloom and terror.

The three rallied around
The smoke of dusk burning.
Bonfires lit and
Witches heart’s churning.

The man of gloom and terror
Shares tales of the forests
Portrayal in death.

“Under the rigid snowfall
The forest weeps at loss of another.
A woman’s footsteps amongst
The lost trail of forbidden secrets.
Her downfall was met at the site
Of a black cat’s tragedy.”

Life’s crosshair has sought
Death’s swift bloodshed.
While two listeners
Writhe in fear of the dark.

“Under the same night sky and
The moon’s eerie stare
These same words spoken to a traveler’s ear
Accompanied the end of days.
When the wind’s inflated whispers
Granted branches the right to fall.”

The contorting shadow
Found death anew,
For the lone black sheep
Must lie in wait.

“Fate tempting winds
Yet again,
Another traveler cracks the vault
Of the forest’s secrets and the wrath
Of wolves led to his last departure.”

Death swept the ground
For the last time tonight.
Now, a storyteller chuckles manically,
As the sun convenes with the forest’s edge.

He will skulk these woods
Forever more.
Killing the innocent,
And spreading live lore.

A flock of sheep resting in a pyre,
Impaled with oblivion,
Will never again stray far
From their shepherd.