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A Woeful Wood

A short story

By E.K. DanielsPublished 2 months ago 4 min read
2

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.

Fantasy
2

About the Creator

E.K. Daniels

Writer, watercolorist, and regular at the restaurant at the end of the universe. Twitter @inkladen

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran2 months ago

    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!

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