The Dark Edge

These forests lie in shadow and the scent
Of conifers is resinous. It hangs
In the still air as spruces complement
The darkness; its oppressiveness just bans
The early morning light to the far edge
Of consciousness, as she leans on a gate
That has seen better days: each spider's web
Sits intact on the rotten wood; She'll take
The chance to genuflect; the dandelions
Are spread around her shins; fine streams of light
May flicker through dense leaves; nature's defiance,
Is not something she'll absorb: she'll requite
The shadows in her mind as she divests
Herself of all reserve in these forests...
Written by SweetOblivion
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Nightmoth ExistenceInSilence QuietusQuill
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