Eugene S.

Abode

The beginning of a wooded trail
That leads to an ancient ground
Trodden for a thousand years
... and nothing ever found

Solitude in this mountainous wood
The delicate sounds of the leaves
Insects are creeping all under foot
Chewing all that will not be

A home of the ancient resides above
Mandrakes rule the quiet grounds
A heavy feeling begins to flood
And churn all the wooded sounds

An existence that few believe to be
A waiting presence that time has bound
What awaits me in yonder lee
The peaceful journey, is no more found

Heaviness weighs the wilderness
A quietness that speaks so loud
Intriguing feelings that ever lure me
To the heavy abode on ancient ground