“What mattered most?”

A tale is told of a loner in the woods
Whose quest had long been to find inner peace
He figured if anyone knew, it’d be the crudes
Their modest lives, the missing puzzle piece
On he trod before stopping at a path forked
Where both paths led to a hell where demons knocked
Two signs lay on the ground, one ‘BAD’, one ‘WORSE’
And so he chose that with the lesser curse
They were long hard days on the road he took
And the nights only led him to believe he mistook
Eyes followed on from the shadows in the mists
Waiting on like vultures among the beasts
He trudged on still, wading through the gore
Fatigue clawing onto him until he could no more
And he lay down to lose hope in silence
To give for his thoughts his last remaining pence
Under the heavens above the pits where he began to fade
A maiden in shining glamour came to his aid
The promise of better resounding from her lips
Improbable, he believed, in his world full of blips
She led him along the ‘bad’ sensing he was nerved
Before turning in on a detour she herself had curved
Onto the road that was labelled worse way back
Rousing in him questions he needed to ask
Before he did, however, she burst into tears
For finding him affirmed her biggest fears
Her soul was swept with waves of guilt and regret
As all the memories she tried but could not forget
Came flooding around that day she ran
The day she messed and panicked asudden
And, looking into his eyes unflinching
Told him of her misdeed, forgiveness beseeching
The signs, she claimed, were never as they appeared
As as she travelled, avoiding a snare she veered
And in the din knocked them over, losing her horse
Before taking the worse that was the bad, for her course
She remained unsettled, nonetheless
For leaving having not fixed nor fessed her mess
And seeing him days later as he was
Rued knowing she might have well been the cause
The loner stared disbelievingly at how fate played
Yet felt he’d finally found in her what had long been delayed
Outstretched arms, he wrapped her in embrace
And led her up the way she came, her steps to trace
With him by her side, she righted her wrong
With her by his side, he’d sing a different song
And they made their way out each having ceded
What they had, or thought they did, for what they needed
In the end his search for crude chanced upon refinement
Albeit going through bad and worse to find the good
What mattered most, you’d ask: the promise of betterment
And so goes the tale of the loner in the woods.


1 thought on “THE LONER”

  1. This is a great piece. To come up with something that has me debating with myself if its is a literal or metaphoric piece is talent.

    Is it literal or metaphoric or both? Gosh.


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