The World Beyond (6/28/2013)

When through the winding paths and roads I walk
The branches whipping round and cross my face
My footsteps disappear without a trace
I hear the many woodland creatures talk.
At veering from the path I tend to balk
The sounds with eerie, fright’ning noises lace
And when I hear the beings near me pace
I fear that in the woods they do me stalk.
Not knowing what is hidden in the wood
I contemplate not moving from the way
But thinking of the limits on what I could
I feel that in the path I just can’t stay
And so I’ll bit by bit extend the path
So, wider, it includes a brighter swath.

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