Beware the Last


Weary beware the trail behind,
The realm of trees in great design.
Dwell in step the last of its kind,
Who walk to those woods in peaceful mind.
In gentle glow like fireflies of the night,
That raid the dark in its normal light.
Where its kind, fireflies in the dark,
That forever fade through trees and bark.

Long in its watch that remain in tune,
To plane of leaves and nature’s boon.
For its unknown warmth, strand to the cold,
Growing in size like life gone bold.
There’s something queer beneath these woods,
An eerie fade that change the mood.
Vibrant hue in form of gentle white,
Powers beyond the mere mortal sight.

So beware that ancient, primordial maze,
Cautious glare of its vigilant gaze.
To who that dwell with ignorance and spite,
Shall have such life be judge in light.
Yet words not mean to newer age,
Phones and gadget instead of page.
There eyes that fill with pride and content,
But the only dares are their lives they relent.


Music: Forgotten

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