Foreboding

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So this poem was made to describe a photo of a forest (that I can't find) but that's probably good so you can VISUALIZE! MUHAHAHAHAHA!

Enjoy :3

Dark as night

Black yet white

Broken twigs on the ground

The silhouette of a light in the trees

But there's no one here to see

The eerie silence

A whistle in the wind

Here and there, a snap

Branches rustling in the breeze like a book being flipped through

But there's no one here to listen

Damp air, a sense of death

Scratches on the tree trunks

Footprints on the ground

The rough sandpaper of fallen trees

But there's no one here to feel

Poison berries

Acorns fallen

Rotten leaves with holes like bullets

Dying but still strong herbs

But there's no one here to taste

Humid, wet

Rotten, moldy bark

Musty like a book opened after centuries

There is a sense of blood, in a hidden shell

But there's no one here to smell

There is a small hamlet, on the edge

Hidden with planted hedge

Villagers say to ones younger,

"Listen and hear a song the birds are singing"

"Sit down a while and watch the flowers blooming"

They shall not let the children know the truth

But is the truth truly the truth?

The forest

No one to see

No one to hear, smell, taste, touch

No one to see the sights, hear the sounds, smell the scents, taste the edibles, touch anything

Nobody

Or is there?

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