Souls of the forgotten

The sultry, soaked sod squelches soundly b’low

My feet.  Barefoot, I tread unwillingly.

Blood-red berries glow in the frosted air.

Birds chirp to the beat of my icy breath.

They spread their wings, their songs of the lost ones

Who once ruled the land I travel across.

Known for their fearlessness, they conquered all

That stood before their intrepid weapons.

But nonetheless, they carried themselves here

And became one with Gaia, Mother Earth.

They watch through the trees, black eyes and pale skin.

Birds dwell on them and leaves become from them.

But none today.  No leaves shine through the frost.

All birds suddenly vanish with the wisps.

They tangle around my ankles, my hands,

My fingers, intertwined, with ancestral

Hope rushing through me.  I force my eyes shut.

The voices, the chanting grows infinite

In volume.  Long hair and thick spears, blued lips.

Fleeting images wrap me, too tightly.

My eyes, shut harder.  My face drawn with pain.

My mind, broken point of calamity.

Until silence.  Silence doth come to me.

Eyes look up and  trees look incessantly

To me, waiting for my demise?  My leave?

I walk on, the ground frosting with ev’ry step.

Blood flowing from my feet, purple hands and

Black fingers circle each other, gath’ring

Warmth of the invisible, unknown fire.

The ground rushes up to me, slicing my

Skin, freezing my life, devouring my soul.

Souls of the forgotten hath not forgot.