They all say the forest is cursed
They clean the well used paths and only forage along their sides
And children aren’t allowed in the forest anymore
Not since it grew dense and dark

They find a hero to go down the old, overgrown ways where one can only feel the path with their feet
They loop back around on each other
Each time may you see something new, get a little further in, get a little closer

Roses that beat like hearts, giant bugs immobilized like statues. Something in the distance that rustles and creaks

 

 

Huge structures made entirely of sticks,

Wicked things like path markers

Finally,
The hollow body of some forgotten beast

This is what remains here.