The dark forest past trailed onwards fading into shadow. The trees on either side stood tall overhead, their leaves slowly swaying and swishing in the gentle breeze that had come with the night as a spirit to accompany to falling of darkness. ? strode onwards, though he was weary from the long day’s walk and the forest grew more ominous in appearance with every passing moment and every mysterious sound that emanated from within the forest. The evening was cool but not cold, for which he was fortunate for his the breeze touched his skin unheeding of the leather jacket that he had worn for the journey; it was little protection against the cold, or would be if it had indeed been cold that evening. Even so, a shiver ran through his bones for the night possessed an icy chill quite apart from the temperature. The trees, which he imaged must appear stately and innocuous in the daytime were dreadful in the evening; their branches seemed to be bony fingers and limbs stretched out at the most hideous angles, and they followed the path into the distance only to be swallowed into the darkness beyond the illumination of his metal lantern, one of the few possessions he had allowed himself to bring on the journey.

Even now however the night seemed too great for him, for his mind had long since begun to conjure up images, most of them things horrid and deleterious in nature looming in the shadows awaiting his moment of weakness when he would stumble or stray from the path. Because of these images he feared to leave the path to find a small clearing in which to hang his tent, lay his blanket, and spend the night; he dared not enter the forest now. And yet the distance ahead seemed insurmountable. An old traveling song came to his tongue and he sang, feeling quite brave to be doing so, as if he was challenging the chill phantom and the shadows around him.

Departed down darkened paths deep and distant, far from home

And shadowy shades shewing ghastly silhouettes for sorry sojourners, wary to roam

Fear not fair heart, for along wooded pathways many have known

Brighter spirits of kinder days who shall guide thy tired feet back to hearth and home

But at the moment even upon completing the poem he could detect no such spirits, and kinder days seemed further behind him than did his starting-place. The song was an ancient one, and nowadays most folk trifled not to write songs or poems of such places as that in which he traveled. Most kept to their homes and did not disturb the aged forests, leaving the pathways long untrod. And so it seemed likely that both kinder days and brighter spirits were a part of the past long since left behind, having departed to realms where a spark of hope still lived, certainly not staying in this dreary place!