As I was walking,
Down the endless road,
A road that led to nowhere,
A road with no beginning
And no end,
A grassy byway,
With sorrow behind,
And anger ahead,
A vague description of a path,
Lit by permanent twilight,
As I was walking down this road,
I saw many things,
Creatures, animals maybe,
Some real, many not,
Things with huge eyes,
Things with many teeth,
Things with a seething hatred for me,
Some of them existing in the shadows,
And some of them made of the shadows themselves.
One of the creatures,
Began to follow me,
It descended from the trees,
And flitted around my head for a bit,
Growing, shrinking, beating its wings,
Beating its heart,
Leaving a trail of darkness in the air,
As though it were some sort of shade,
A dark, cloudy moth, wafting through the woods,
Blowing through the leaves,
Drifting through the minds of hapless travelers.
As the moth came nearer,
It occurred to me,
That this was no moth,
It was a girl.
A girl with an odd appearance,
She still resembled a moth,
Black hair, black imaginations,
And eyes blacker than her soul,
As though she had run out of apologies,
And suffered the infinite bitterness,
That was manifested in her malignant stare.
She came near to me,
And whispered a word into my ear,
And to this day I can't remember the word,
But the word was black, and dark,
And made of shadows,
And carried her spirit with it.
I repeated the word back to her,
And I realized then that she had become the word.
This word was shaped just like a moth,
And it rose from my mind,
And beat its wings,
And its heart,
And flew back into the trees,
Leaving me alone with the dusk and gloom.
