Dark Wood

Dark Wood

An eerie mist lies in this dank wood

where all is dank and cold

Feint deeper shadows play on gnarled trunks

that are so gaunt and old

Here at the woods rotten heart

gruesome faces grimly stare

From dark, fissured bark,

comes their ashen glare

Everything is nearly quiet

deep in this ghost domain

So much foreboding hate

it would drive anyone insane

Only the endless drip

from tall damp mossy trees

Dew falling from high branches

that are moistly green

Interrupt the sullen numb,

yawning wide silence

An unerring sense increases

of tenacious baleful violence

When I hear strange unearthly creaks

coming from the ghastly trees

Quite strange, you know

as there was not a single breeze

Then everywhere I looked

this evil thick white fog

Washed around darkened stumps

and strewn misshapen logs

On it flows like a terrible river

of noxious deadly gas

From a time so long ago,

none of us can grasp

The atmosphere is heavy now,

too heady to really think

At my precious life force

the fog I feel wants to drink

My mind is in such turmoil

visions begin to cloud

A most distasteful sight,

a hideous evil shroud

The mists engulf my world

in horrible swirling wisps

Shifting like a whirlwind now,

at my life it tries to grip

In the disturbing mists

I see apparitions tall, so horrid

My heart pounds hard and fast

an encounter so very torrid

Whatever these phantom are

it is me I feel they want

The spirits of the woods are out

no mercy shall they grant

Ghostly figures from alder trunks

appear and begin to shift

Towards me they move

in stomach wrenching twists

Their eyes are sunken

deep pits of universal doom

If eyes they are

in the enveloping murky gloom

Fearful now, I want to run

from the hateful wisps of mist

Spectres of this place

collapsing then vexatiously lift

These mysterious wraiths

were they hidden in the ground?

Now at days coldest time

were able to abound?

Or were they concealed down,

in the boring tireless roots

Deep underground

where no sunshine shoots

These malicious beings

surely visions of the night

Are they hateful of the sunshine

perhaps consumers of light

At my necks nape

a cold shiver did begin

Went down my spine

cold dread then grew within

A first I stood stock still

frozen with fear to the spot

Quite certain in my mind

that I had had my lot

Coldness greater than before

wafted about my head

From a presence so very dark

it filled my mind with dread

Whispers grew much harsher

as there numbly I stood

Swamped in a washing tide

such a terrible vaporous flood

As I ran, for ran I did,

the harsh whispers wafted in the air

A feeling overcame me

of unnerving, horrified despair

The murmuring evil,

of such deep cruel hate

Sighs and rasping hisses

of shadows of the late

I do not know if they are still there

you see, I shamefully ran out

Surely you do not think I stayed

I certainly had no doubt

In haste I looked quickly back

they mysteriously had gone

But where to I do not know,

or, more exactly for how long

They must stay in the wood

maybe for all the while?

But perhaps they roam out at night

a thought so very vile

If you see shadows

as evening falls to night

Deeper than the darkness

you could get such a fright

It could just be those spectres

roaming the country wide

Beings who melt with darkness

on the midnight dark they ride!

Copyright Dai Wynne-Jones