The Road That Took Her Name

The Road That Took Her Name

The road ran thin between the marsh,

A narrow vein through dying land,

Where water gathered, black and still,

And reeds bent low like watching men.

No traveller spoke of passing there,

Yet tracks would form in silent hours,

As though some carriage moved unseen,

Drawn by a will not made of breath.

It stood one night beneath the ash,

A carriage worn, its paint long gone,

One wheel set wrong within the mud,

Yet still it seemed prepared to leave.

The door was open just enough,

To show the dark that lived inside,

No sound emerged, no figure stirred,

Yet something waited, calm and sure.

A lantern burned beside the step,

Its flame unsteady, thin and pale,

It cast a light that did not warm,

But only showed what should not be.

The path ahead dissolved in mist,

The path behind had disappeared,

As though the world had closed itself,

To keep that place from being known.

She came alone, her steps were slow,

Her dress drawn close against the cold,

No witness walked beside her then,

No voice remained to call her back.

Her face was pale, her gaze set far,

On something none could ever see,

And in her eyes there lived a depth,

No living soul should ever hold.

The marsh grew still as she drew near,

The reeds fell quiet, stiff with dread,

Even the wind withdrew its breath,

And left the world to what would pass.

She placed her hand upon the door,

It moved with ease, as though it knew,

And from within a darker dark,

Reached to claim what had been marked.

No cry was heard, no struggle shown,

The lantern flickered once, then died,

The carriage closed, the road fell bare,

And silence took her final trace.

Yet travellers speak in hushed unease,

Of seeing shapes in drifting fog,

And hearing wheels on empty ground,

Where no true road should ever be.

#Marie381UkWrites #www #viral #poetrymagazines #facebook #twitter #instergrampoets #vocalmedia