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I remember when I was a child.
My parents would tell me tales.
Of men dealing with demons.
In the crossroads right out of town.

And I remember quietly.
I had walked down that path too.
Not for money, talent, or fame.
I wanted to know what happiness was like.

And I never knew if I got my wish.
It always felt like things went south.
From within the abandoned crosswalks.
I could feel only sad eyes staring me down.

I felt the whispers and warnings.
Every foggy afternoon.
When I'd wish for the man to supposedly appear.
Just for a simple request.

"I only want to be happy and loved."
It seemed to echo into the neverending winter.
But I waited anyway.
I had barely any warmth to spare.

But nothing came and so I left.
And I felt the pity trail behind my back.
As I walked down the path.
That I decided to stroll down.

And my life continued to go down hill.
I am no longer so young.
I have become accustomed to this world.
To all its cruel games.

I have been broken and shattered
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over....I have forgetten.
I am tired.

So I came back to the crossroads.
No more warmth left in my body.
I did not come with a wish this time.
Only seeking a question.

"Why did you not grant my wish?"
And I waited again by the trails.
For anybody to appear now.
Anybody who could give me answers.

"What did I do wrong?"
The trees looked at me with misery.
The clouds gave me it's soft tears.
The mist hugged me as tightly as it could.

And from within the forest.
I could hear it's voice at last.
"You did nothing wrong."
I am shattering by the seams.

"I gave you what you asked for."
Then why am I so unhappy.
"Because happiness never lasts."
Am I always going to feel hopeless?

"No."
Then what am I meant to do?
"Nothing."
I don't understand.

"Because happiness will never mean anything without the struggle."

But I am shattered now, practically dust.
"But a phoenix is also reborn from it's ashes."
I no longer carry anymore warmth.
"But a fire can always be rekindled."

Is that all my life will be worth for?
"Life is always a struggle, it is survival."
But it is not what I asked for.
"No one chooses to have it willingly."

Am I meant to live on?
"Certainly you are."
Why? Why am I meant to be here.
"Because you want to."

What If I don't want to be here anymore.
"You have meaning you always will."
I don't understand.
"Your struggle and success to survive is enough to show for it."

And I could see the soot on my feet gather.
That was when the howling stopped.
I stood there still with no answers.
As the sun began to rise.

But I had a gut feeling I would not return to the crossroads again.

-Rain
hello ✨ been a while
LC Apr 24
fragile umbrellas are strewn
across the cluttered forest floor,
nourishing strong connections
from all over the world.
their gills are loaded weapons
that fire spores into the air
at the speed of light.
if we blink, we miss it -
and the umbrellas multiply.
Escapril Day 23! Prompt: blink and you'll miss it. I've been thinking about nature a lot lately, especially fungi, which are so interesting. Fun fact: fungi are more closely related to animals than plants! I never knew that, and that fact blew my mind.
Anyway, this poem was inspired by fungi. I hope you enjoy it 😊
LC Apr 18
flames raze the forest,
bringing it to its knees.
ashes line the ground,
fertilizing the charred soil.
the clouds mourn for the forest,
blessing the ground with its tears.
seeds of all sizes land,
and the sun wakes up to greet them.
a garden rises from the ashes.
Escapril Day 17!
Prompt: garden.
I have been thinking about resilience and bouncing back lately, and the result was this poem. Happy Easter to everyone celebrating, and I hope you are all doing well 💗
lua Mar 6
skin made of fire
organs made of flame
each strand of hair a wisp of smoke

living in a forest
one touch can blow it all away
but there's nothing like
free oxygen.
Snowblind Feb 6
I saw great shade-casting green built upon pines,
like statues ripped the Earth stretching up to the skies.
Never could you reach, and yet you live to try,
But the heaven and the Earth seem lovers by design.

Billowing clouds, feeding roots that build shrines
that I won't live to see completely arise.
For my own pallid self - or for beauty - heart cries?
They stand so stoic and draped, in flowers and vines.

As I'm lost in the calls of the overhead crows
rained in each fluttering fall of feather delivered.
Drop. Like my once-glossed eyes emptying this soul
and my weighty life into the likewise sobbing river.
Casting out, casting off. Isn't it the same as to sow?
The river does not pause; why then dwell on what differed?
Ashley Kay Nov 2021
The whisper burns
through forests
Cremating the dead
Offering ashes back
To the soil, as only a
Vapor, droplets
float in the sky
Seeking new
acreage, bodies of
open creation
Wildflowers bloom
Ashleykay2021
Valya Oct 2021
In 5 years
No, maybe in 15
Will I be able to live in peace

In a forest far, far away
Lush green trees encasing me
Light brown birds chirping their morning songs
Bunnies with their dirtied fur hopping through the lawn
Fireflies shining their dim, golden light to show the way home

A warm fire cloaking a cottage in heat
A heavenly scent drafting out of the oven
Gentle, loving hands enveloping me from behind
Fluffy kittens peeking out from the woolen blankets
A soft orange glow emitted from the lanterns hanging above
A smile developing at the corners of my careworn lips

I'll be waiting
For this day
To come to me
Rachel Rae Sep 2021
The deep woods that linger on the mountain hill
With open palms that beckon and hold
As I move across its glades of gold and jade
As the hidden bridge squeaks beneath my weight
The pines beginning to close in on the space
That was the path, crumbling into mossy lace

In that moment, it was barely visible
The red steeple of the city temple
Peeking gently through the canopy of leaves
But as the wind blew and the woodlands breathed
And the fairies of the river bank sang
The warm hand against my back began to lead me away
If only I could stay
In labyrinths green
Ever wandering
In hallways of sunlight
Nothing more than
A lingering thought
Left floating through
Wooden minds and
Mossy corridors

KNL
Strying Sep 2021
a long way
to a place many never go
surrounded by tall trees
with a path, many don't follow
an open home
railing
abandoned
hi ~ just wanted to transport myself for a second :)
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