Lost and weary, through a fog I strayed,
No path, no compass, naught to aid.
A mighty wall, of wood and bark,
A gnarled oak, etched with nature's mark.
*
A voice it spoke, within my head,
"Welcome, soul, to paths unsaid.”
“The Wood of Woe, where shadows creep,
A mirrored realm, where mortals weep."
*
Doubt gripped my heart, a chilling dread,
A talking tree, the words it said?
Yet onward drawn, by unseen hand,
To truths unveiled in this strange land.
*
The oak's vast form, a silent guide,
I stepped within, with purpose tied.
The forest floor, a carpet grey,
Of withered leaves, life gone astray.
*
No rustling leaves, no vibrant green,
Just skeletal limbs, a mournful scene.
*
A voice arose, a raspy plea,
"They took and took, relentlessly.
Blind to the beauty, deaf to the plea,
Their wasted lives, a haunting decree."
*
A ghostly form, with hollow eyes,
Pointed to husks, where beauty lies.
*
"The farmer's greed," the voice did speak,
"Left barren fields, where life grew bleak."
Each lifeless tree, a silent cry,
Of broken bonds, beneath the sky.
*
A monument to souls astray,
Who cast nature's once endless bounty away.
*
The path ahead, a twisted maze,
Of thorny brambles, a prickly haze.
With barbs like daggers, sharp and keen,
They tore at clothes, a spiteful scene.
*
A voice it hissed, with wicked glee,
"Take all you want, eternally!
*
Strip bare the earth, till nothing's left,
This bounty's yours, a gift bereft!"
I fought my way, through grasping vines,
A metallic tang, a web of crimes.
*
The air grew thick, with avarice's hold,
A greed so vast, a story told
*
In solemn secrets, dark and deep,
Of lands laid waste, where creatures weep.
Of resources, ripped from earth's embrace,
A callous hunger, a soulless chase.
*
The thorns they writhed, a twisted snare,
A spineless truth, laid harsh and bare.
*
The thorns of greed, a tangled maze,
A reflection cast on human’s gaze.
*
The path converged, a stagnant mire,
Where fetid waters, choked with fire,
Of glowing fungi, cast an eerie light,
On twisted vines, in tangled plight.
*
A figure rose, with beauty's grace,
A forked tongue hid, a smiling face.
*
Her voice it sang, a siren's call,
Of endless plenty, for one and all.
"The earth provides, a bounty grand,
No need to fear, a helping hand.
*
Take what you will, there's no mistake,
Progress unending, for goodness sake!"
*
The swamp it churned, a restless tide,
Skeletal hands, from depths they hide.
Faces emerged, with silent screams,
Lost in the marsh, of broken dreams.
*
Victims of deceit, a tangled web,
Misguided souls, where reason ebbed.
The lies they drank, a poisoned well,
Forever trapped, in this putrid hell.
*
The path climbed higher, on scorched terrain,
Where tortured trees writhed in endless pain.
*
Crimson flames licked at the ashen bark,
A furnace roaring, leaving its mark.
A voice arose, a snarled cry,
"Consumed by want, we never die!
*
More! More! The flames demand their fill,
An endless hunger, a burning thrill!"
*
Figures danced, in flickering light,
Hollow eyes, reflecting endless night.
Grasping hands reached for the sky,
Trapped in a cycle that could ceaseless die.
*
These were the souls, forever spent,
By fleeting desires, never content.
Fast fashion's lure, and gadgets new,
A bottomless pit, with nothing true.
*
The flickering flames, a mirrored gleam,
Of landfills overflowing, a polluted stream.
*
The yearning for more, a wanton’s delight,
Consumed the forest, shrouded in night.
A single tear, escaped my eye,
For the beauty lost, beneath the burning sky.
*
The endless quest, a soul's demise,
Reflected here, a hellish prize.
*
The air grew cool, the flames receded,
Leaving a landscape, deeply seeded
With sorrow's weight. The path, moss-grown,
Led to a grove, where shadows moaned.
*
Willows drooped low, their branches wept,
Waterfalls of tears, the silence swept.
*
Beneath their boughs, a figure frail,
Her face obscured, by a mournful veil.
"Why do you weep?" I dared to ask,
My voice a whisper, through the mournful task.
*
A sigh escaped, a wispy thread,
"Neglect's harsh hand, a burden bred.
*
Those who turned away, from nature's call,
Left us to wither, ignored us all."
The willows swayed, in mournful grace,
Aching roots, etched on a barren face.
*
Forests neglected, turned to dust,
A consequence, for misplaced trust.
*
"We were their haven, a verdant shield,
From scorching sun, and storms revealed.
But progress marched, with a callous stride,
Leaving us broken, nowhere to hide."
*
A single tear, traced a silent track,
Down her pale cheek, a memory brought back.
*
"Once vibrant boughs, now branches bare,
A silent plea, lost in the air."
Shame washed over me, a bitter tide,
For actions taken, with careless pride.
*
The forgotten role, of nature's embrace,
Reflected here, in this sorrowful space.
The path dwindled, into barren ground,
No trees in sight, no sheltering sound.
*
Just cracked earth stretched beneath the sky,
A desolate wasteland, where dreams went to die.
*
A howling wind tore through the air,
A cacophony of screams at the lack of care.
Whispers swirled, a tortured plea,
"We reap what we sow, eternally!"
*
Figures emerged, wispy and thin,
Lost souls condemned, for the unforgivable sin.
*
The destroyers of forests, with greed in their eyes,
Forever buffeted by nature's cries.
One figure spoke, his voice raw and frayed,
"We carved a path, with progress unstayed.
*
Forests we razed, for concrete and steel,
Leaving behind, a wound that won't heal."
*
Another joined in, his form like smoke,
"We blinded ourselves, to the coming choke.
Ignored the warnings, the pleas of the green,
Now driven to dust, a barren scene."
*
The wind howled louder, a mournful song,
A lament for forests, forever gone.
The price of “progress”, laid stark and bare,
A haunting reminder lingered in the air.
*
But amidst the dust, a sight did unfold,
A tiny sprout, pushing through the cold.
A single sapling, reaching for the light,
A symbol of strength, in the endless night.
*
Hope flickered within me, a fragile flame,
Of redemption, not a zero sum game.
If one small sprout, could defy the despair,
Perhaps there’s a chance, for nature to repair.
About the Creator
E.K. Daniels
Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen
Comments (1)
I didn't expect for everything to be burned down. That was so sad. Loved that you chose to do a poetic form for this challenge!