Lean upon a staff of forgotten yew,
While you grit teeth against this old throbbing would.
Why did you come upon this path alone,
Knowing there would be bones waiting deep?
The past has long memories here between each stone,
While shadows draw close with glistening maws.
Has time masked your sense of self preservation,
To blind you from a predestined fate?
Yet forward you ambulate upon flattened rock,
Listening to the comforting sounds of bird upon water.
Distract yourself from this rising doom,
As golden light glitters upon rippling water.
-M. E. InkOwl