Along the path,
he tread on
Tall, thick trees
blocked the light of the sun.
Its narrow and long,
he knew something was wrong
A whisper in the bushes,
a thorn on the ground,
his guilt poked him,
he quickly turned around.
Nothing lay behind
except the cloth bundle,
inside lay the body
of the women he had strangled.
He struggled to pull the body,
became heavier by the second
the soul inside
would have him beckon.
Anger made the trees sway,
the air became damp
his mind infused with chaos
of ways to get out of this swamp.
His men were waiting
for the price he would bring
but he was trapped in this maze
in his praise they would sing.
The ground below
shook with terror
his legs gave away
there was no shelter,
from the trees,
whispers became louder,
wolves began to howl
his reason for joy
was lurking on the prowl.
The soul within
had joined forces with nature
his mad heart
beat like a strange creature
He needed to get out
but he lay deep in the trap
His guilt held him
from escaping through the gap.