Forest Dweller

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
poem

Submitted: February 16, 2010

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Submitted: February 16, 2010

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Fog mantles the forest floor,
The sun is welcomed no more,
as the moon creeps in, filling the air with is glow.

Trees are waking coming alive,
Moss is devouring the insects that come by,
Scavengers scurrying around so sly.

In the forest on the brim of town,
Home to souls a many, that dwell in the ground.
Murky swamp water, it all that's around.

Owls chanting echos through the crisp air,
on sprints a white horse, so fair.
Stalked by the forests prisoner.

On its tracks there roams a feral dog,
carefully dancing around the fog,
knows every path in this darkened bog.

It maneuvers graceful and it makes the kill,
sinking teeth deep in the animal,
savoring the delicious flavor,
Fueling this monstrous behavior.

The creature that calls the forest home,
hunts it's game in solitude, alone.
Insuring the it's life is forlorn.
By the blood of the dove white unicorn.


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