Through the Wood

Passing I alone through a sombre wood
With ghastly breaths and the maps are all wrong
In my heart, bleak darkness resides for good
Comes much bleaker at the hours long gone

Bright and lo, desolation trail in sight
As the birds stopped singing and flew away,
When dark, the cold frost bleeds from side to side
As they're embracing the mute folks who's laid,
Whose smoky whispers, whose presence soon fades.

It’s nice knowing one step guides another;
For a misstep, it is a fate far worse.