A Lost Soul Wanders Amid the Trees
by Rosalind Weir
When I was young, I got lost in the woods.
I broke from the home I loved dear,
And wandered away into the autumn groves--
Bright and red with the decadence of sunlight,
And knowledge of what it would take from me.
I remember not what I saw out there
In the place where humans will never rule.
The cold etched itself upon my bones,
And I hold the scars of its frozen embrace.
But those fleeting memories mark me not.
I returned with frost hung in my hair,
the broken remnants of a lost soul.
I felt the warm embrace of my mother,
But could offer nothing human in return.
For that part of me lay in a crypt of leaves.
I brushed ice from my body that night,
And watched my spirit melt in my hand.
It belonged to me but was a different me.
Oh, how I wish I could piece her together,
And hear songs of the past she might sing.
I do not feel like myself anymore,
My insides are as gaunt as my eyes.
But sometimes I remember my true name,
When the moon is bright, and the stars laugh,
When the universe bears its weight upon us.
I never again went near the trees,
Not when they could so easily steal me,
But I oft wonder if I am still out there,
If I can be found in a lake somewhere drowned,
Or hung from gallows strewn with leaves.
When I was young, I got lost in the woods.
I broke from the home I loved dear.
A haunting siren’s song wrapped around me,
And the voice of defeated loss pulled me in,
Into a world I cannot ever escape.
I remember not what I saw out there
In the place where humans will never rule,
But as of late I have felt a disturbing stirring,
Like dead browned leaves rustling in the wind,
And I know the creature calls me.
I returned with frost hung in my hair,
the broken remnants of a lost soul.
Perhaps it was an ominous premonition,
Which the blind sibyl failed to decipher,
As she held me to her shaking body.
The leaves swirled like fae in their flight,
Warning me of danger that drew near,
But I foolishly walked into the maw of Hell,
I tempted death’s cold darkness into this game.
I cannot leave, I cannot leave unscathed.
A chilling cry echoes from the trees,
It strikes my soul; it jostles memories free.
I know there exists a force larger than me,
Whose gnashing jaw my teary eyes stared into.
I know that it devoured me whole.
When the inky dark came finally for me,
I wept, and tears froze upon my face.
The piercing ice remains there to this day,
Remains on a small broken body--
Buried in the place where worms crawl, and rot seeps.
When I was young, I got lost in the woods.
I broke from the home I loved dear.
I was killed by the monster out there,
And my spirit returned unknowingly,
To a mother who will cry when I leave again,
And never leave my grave when they finally find me.
I broke from the home I loved dear,
And wandered away into the autumn groves--
Bright and red with the decadence of sunlight,
And knowledge of what it would take from me.
I remember not what I saw out there
In the place where humans will never rule.
The cold etched itself upon my bones,
And I hold the scars of its frozen embrace.
But those fleeting memories mark me not.
I returned with frost hung in my hair,
the broken remnants of a lost soul.
I felt the warm embrace of my mother,
But could offer nothing human in return.
For that part of me lay in a crypt of leaves.
I brushed ice from my body that night,
And watched my spirit melt in my hand.
It belonged to me but was a different me.
Oh, how I wish I could piece her together,
And hear songs of the past she might sing.
I do not feel like myself anymore,
My insides are as gaunt as my eyes.
But sometimes I remember my true name,
When the moon is bright, and the stars laugh,
When the universe bears its weight upon us.
I never again went near the trees,
Not when they could so easily steal me,
But I oft wonder if I am still out there,
If I can be found in a lake somewhere drowned,
Or hung from gallows strewn with leaves.
When I was young, I got lost in the woods.
I broke from the home I loved dear.
A haunting siren’s song wrapped around me,
And the voice of defeated loss pulled me in,
Into a world I cannot ever escape.
I remember not what I saw out there
In the place where humans will never rule,
But as of late I have felt a disturbing stirring,
Like dead browned leaves rustling in the wind,
And I know the creature calls me.
I returned with frost hung in my hair,
the broken remnants of a lost soul.
Perhaps it was an ominous premonition,
Which the blind sibyl failed to decipher,
As she held me to her shaking body.
The leaves swirled like fae in their flight,
Warning me of danger that drew near,
But I foolishly walked into the maw of Hell,
I tempted death’s cold darkness into this game.
I cannot leave, I cannot leave unscathed.
A chilling cry echoes from the trees,
It strikes my soul; it jostles memories free.
I know there exists a force larger than me,
Whose gnashing jaw my teary eyes stared into.
I know that it devoured me whole.
When the inky dark came finally for me,
I wept, and tears froze upon my face.
The piercing ice remains there to this day,
Remains on a small broken body--
Buried in the place where worms crawl, and rot seeps.
When I was young, I got lost in the woods.
I broke from the home I loved dear.
I was killed by the monster out there,
And my spirit returned unknowingly,
To a mother who will cry when I leave again,
And never leave my grave when they finally find me.
Rosalind Weir is a student at the University of California Berkeley. She loves to read and write eldritch and gothic horror stories, fantasy and science fiction, and stories that center on marginalized identities.