Off into the deep dark woods,
With a wicker box of goods.
Jar of jam, loaf of bread,
Doctor prescribed rest in bed.
The forests single trail,
To far in to fail,
Sliver of red dashing,
Amidst the rains lashing.
Mother went to town for the weeks end,
To go see childhoods friend.
So the cottage is free for me,
No danger did I see.
My grandmothers rickety house bore signs of age,
In her garden she grew sage,
To keep away spirits of rage.
But her herbs seemed to be dead.
Voices of doubt whispered in my head.
Is she here, her body is near,
But is her mind, and that smile kind,
She said when her sage shows signs of age,
It's time to run like theirs a fire on stage.
Despite my feeling
I opened the door
Scent sent me reeling
I stumbled to the floor.
Stood by the fire-place
Was a face out of place,
A man in my grans robes,
I felt prickles in my ear lobes.
He smiled a grim grin of many teeth,
Eyes of sin screamed a soul thief.
I turned to run,
But he grabbed and yelled ***.
"What about my treats and sweets,
Don't leave," the man tugged at my sleeve.
"I was going to get you pickings of thyme"
I said to the impersonating slime.
"I'll cook you a beef steak."
"Magnificent" said the rake.
Gran kept steak for me,
Why I ate it she didn't see.
Oil and thyme, in the frying pan.
Waiting on time, heat reddens the crying Pan.
When ready I bashed the pan down on his head,
Praying he smashed on the ground dead.
Then I took a sharp silver knife,
To his throat, to end his life.
Blood, arterial spray, enters the fray. Chaos rampant here,
The scent of her body near.
I went to her room then fell to my knees in doom.
I carried her limp frame to the sodden ground,
Buried her beneath a mound.
Then grabbed sage stricken by age,
Put it in the devils shocked screaming mouth,
Then put his body ablaze to send his dark soul streaming south.
My take on red riding hood.