The melody of youth enchanted the path in a forest,
Where a group of dissident adventurers wander…self-assured,
And in their way to getting lost in the tangle of their imagination,
They create chaos out of desire to be more alive than being alive.
Revolting against the meditative trance of nature,
They interrupt an owl's slumber and the marriage of two bees,
In the belly of a lake they invent a ripple game,
And in a darkened cavern they deposit all their fear.
As the cheery sun drowns in the horizon,
And as the melody of the woods from ethereal turns to eerie,
Four young minds compress their worry into a gasp,
As the road that brought them here, in darkness, disappears.
The moon painted like a skull in a black canvas stares at them,
As steps retrace steps and the glimmers of theirs eyes become their only lamps,
The forest embraces them with its myriad wooden arms,
Easing their thoughts into a realm of unknown terrors.
Fresh ink smears on a freshly printed local news article,
‘Still missing’, ‘gone’, ‘seven days’, appear obscured,
As if brushed by ghastly fingers…