Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Journey Afoot

O dense fog, go thee hence from before my footsteps
Tarry not a lingering moment more upon my path
My sword is drawn, nay, it rests not inside sheath nor nigh the hilt
It stands watch, ready for sweeping slices delivering deadly blows upon mine enemies

I am in the chaotic forest where lustful eyes yearn to devour
They peer upon my form, lips purse, nostrils aroused
Talons and claws bristle with wanton cravings
The faint light within renders them incapable of lasciviousness

Invisible guardian guiding, I tread not lightly but steadily
Through this dark night of the soul into fresh terrain
The journey afoot, transformative, foreboding, new
It is a humbling walk but one in which I am not alone

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