Into the Woods

I run away, hoping the evil within me dies,

To my death I scurry, deep within the trees.

Within the lush undergrowths my body lies,

My life drains, as my physical form sighs. 

I leave behind a bitter trail of blood and toils—

As the people rejoice on tear soaked soils.

I am the beast who has gone off to die,

With a dulled ache and blood that boils.

For my only hope is that within the shade

Love will find me when my debt is paid.

I have fallen victim to a moral absence—

I lie in the brambles of the mess I’ve made.

I am dying, and hoping I soon awaken—

I amble into the woods, somewhat shaken,

While the wounds within me fester—

A gift, in exchange for all I’ve taken.

         DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com