The Eternal Trek

A poem written after a walk of my own in a gorgeous but frightnening grave yard. Thanks to my bro for the help with the goofy words!


Blustering winds blow
Through skeletal trees
The sound they make
That of the dead
Moaning in a hell
Of their own making.

She walks through a graveyard
And the stones cast bleak shadows
Across the nearly frozen ground
And the brown, dead grass.
The gray of the stones...
Dreary and frightening.

What is this place?
What is this world?
Where people are worth no more
Than a hole in the ground
And a rock above their heads?
Does something more live on?

The girl wonders as she passes
But the field is silent
Eerily quiet
And the only sounds are those
Of the dreadful wind echoing
Through her head.

The leaves crunch beneath her feet
And fingers of the skeletons around her
Crack beneath her weight,
Though she weighs so little.
The wind from beyond
Could easily carry her within its grasp.

She struggles against the gale
Thinking not to turn back
She determines to finish her trek
If it kills her...
Little does she know
The dreadful night just may.

As she struggles on
The winds grow stronger
And leaves sweep all about her.
Her tiny frame is caught in the whirlwind,
And so blinded is she by the frozen rain that begins to fall
That she can see not.

Thus is the struggle
She faces as she presses on.
And in her heart of hearts
She knows that she will never
See the true light of day
Ever again...

Her tiny foot is caught in a hollow,
And she falls slowly, slowly,
To the ground.
It catches her within its eternal grasp
And a fresh grave reaches up to her
As she tumbles down.

The night is suddenly soundless
And the wind howls no more.
The leaves are still
The harsh sleet turns gently
To a pure white snow
Like powder on the ground.

It covers her with its freezing warmth
And as it does so
Her lips pale
Her breathing slows
And the white night
Turns ever so slowly...

To deepest black.