In
the heart of a powerful land lay a sleepy little town of no genuine importance,
which
was unknown to any person of prominence.
The
town was only one square lined with small shops and a few lanes,
and
in this town children ran along streets and pressed noses against panes.
Attached
to its skirt was countryside even quieter,
that
babbled with brooks and with animal clatter.
The
people of the town were entranced by the serenity.
They
were always whispering their conversations and muffling their hilarity.
At
the very stitch of the town was the beginning of an ominous grove,
here
the people of the town never strode.
As
much as the town was small and insignificant,
the
wood on the edge of this town was vast and infamous.
The
forest sprawled dark webs over most of the land,
casting
long deep shadows that only decay could withstand.
Deep among the trees where the thicket grows thickest.
Contained
in small knoll there was a figure most wicked.
In
the knoll not a sound could be heard, the air was musty and sour,
and
the cold overcame any warmth or power.
Not
a thing could be seen because the trees were so compressed,
and
the light could not break in so the darkness was immense.
It
was in this forest where the tale begins,
a
tale of desperate souls and of sins.
There
once were three lone travelers that got lost in the night,
and
came upon the knoll unaware of their blight.
The
first was a tall man of very great stature.
The
second was ill tempered and ruthless in nature.
The
third was humble and went where they commanded,
he
followed them loyally and never reprimanded.
The
three travelers got lost in the forest’s webbed vines,
and
soon had taken to their many wines.
Fast
they went into uneasy sleep.
When
around them rose a fog dreary and deep.
It
surrounded the three travelers without sound or clue,
and
the travelers awoke in the middle of the night covered in dew.
That
is when the first traveler saw the hooded figure,
and
cowered backwards with a tremor.
The
figure that lived in the knoll was most feared.
His
pattern of destruction was very unclear.
The
people he left untouched in his wake,
counted
themselves lucky at their narrow escape.
Wherever
he went, people whispered their fate,
Because
their fate was death and death was his name.
At
first the strong traveler put up a fight.
He
valiantly gambled away his only life.
The
first traveler though proud and highly acclaimed,
had
no humility and no reason for praise.
His
heart did not prove good nor true,
and
so he died a death in his due.
Like
many before him strong and proud,
He
fell from great heights to the hard ground.
The
two travelers watched in horror as their companion fell,
And
death turned the second traveler, who feared the depths of hell.
The
second traveler was not brave like the first, but he sly.
He
sought to outsmart death and planned not to die.
The
second traveler knew of nothing but greed,
so
he thought he understood death’s needs.
He
asked death what he wanted in return for his soul,
and
so he bargained his life with the foul ghoul.
Death
was not thwarted and so was not deceived,
and
he claimed the second traveler with just as much ease.
The
last traveler watched as the man was stripped of his every thought, plan, and
memory.
His
mind was lost to the forest and the second traveler died of insanity.
Death
turned to the third traveler, who saw no hope.
The
strong and the clever died, and he was nothing like those.
The
third traveler looked death in the eyes prepared for the worst,
and
death reluctantly spoke these admonishing words.
“You
who are humble,
Do
not see with your own eyes.
That
you who accepts me,
Forever
deserve what is life.”
Then
death vanished and the third traveler was left behind.
He
did not fear death, because he thought death was kind.
The
traveler grew old and came back to this knoll,
But
never again did he see the hooded ghoul.
The
traveler still walks in the wood very late,
But
death never comes for him and he is doomed to sit there and wait.
