FOREST

I recall a trudge through a forest

In a bitter, void winter

Under a blood moon

Where a thousand whispers moaned

That this is not a dream

Love has gone

Crushed

Not sleeping

But in deaths shadow

For eternity

And as the winds sad symphony screamed

I watched as my goddess rose into the mist

Leaving me with a lifetime

To worship nothing

But to stare the day away

Watching the sun rust

G.P. WALKER 11/01/98

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