For C Poem by Ryan Cole

She makes her way to the dark woods
the windy moors
The blank places on the map
where dragons be
Not for her the birdsong or the dappled glen
The gentle stream
No, she is the torrent and the tussle
The wild places and barren lands
The world sees only her face
Bewitched and beguiled by the beauty
Desired and demanded
She is just a commodity to be taken and used
and then discarded
No better am I
this much I know
Though perhaps not just by the beauty caught
which first came to my eyes
Seduced instead by the sadness
as is my way,
for I too have dwelt in the dark woods
The windy moors
and the blank places on the map
where dragons be