Down the Path

By: MJ Whelan, Short Story Editor

The little path in the woods calls to me

The quiet whispers of mad adventure

Oh, how they will never leave me to be

Oh, that forever accursed temper!

I finally went a ways down the path

The trees whispered and gossiped, what about?

I found an old and forgotten birdbath

There was a little carving with a pout

I went too far down the small path, oh woe!

I fear, for the woods are dark around me

I hear the dark cry of an unseen crow

I wonder if the call is a banshee

It is so dark now, the woods are alive

I have taken shelter, I won’t survive…