Deep in the words- where civilization has not found- they dwell. In the trees, in the branches, they float. They wait. If you hear the leaves rustle softly, and there is no wind, they may be near. They will gather you with venomous caresses- a sting that starts off as a blaze of fire, but soothes into confusion, exhaustion and apathy. By then it’s too late to run.
If you see a tree, covered in moss, filled with holes, they have been near. Watch for the lights in the trees. Listen for the gentle whisper of their leaves.
Be wary. Be safe. And if you see them, run.
Deep in the words- where civilization has not found- they dwell. In the trees, in the branches, they float. They wait. If you hear the leaves rustle softly, and there is no wind, they may be near. They will gather you with venomous caresses- a sting that starts off as a blaze of fire, but soothes into confusion, exhaustion and apathy. By then it’s too late to run.
If you see a tree, covered in moss, filled with holes, they have been near. Watch for the lights in the trees. Listen for the gentle whisper of their leaves.
Be wary. Be safe. And if you see them, run.
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