The Chest

Trodding the untrodden

Into the darkness of the woods

Into the blues of the skies

I see forests, birds squeaking

As the north wind chills the spine

And across comes the ravine

The road’s hostile, the path futile

As I fall into the gorge

My hope crushed

My spine quashed

Will I survive this fall?

I gather my grit, I show some nerve

I scrape and grind through the stones

I sweat, I cry, I bleed, I wry

Carving the way out, but in vain

What hath god wrought?

That I earned such pain

Will such disparity always reign?

I lose everything but my life

Clinging on like an evil memory

Haunting me as I await the fairy

Far I have come, far shall I go

For I know the end is a glow

I get up, stand up, and find a hovel

Dig through it and forth I trail

A shiny stone maybe

Odds and ends, just worthless scrap

Tons of gilt inside a wrap,

For the world I carved

the treasure chest,

Casting the grave, for me

To rest.