Forest Cry

I followed the call of the screams

That echoed deeper into the forest,

Behind the mangled fingers and wooden beasts;

I could hear the cry of innocence

Begging to be rescued and taken to safety

From the demons lurking in the shadows,

Prancing around the forest,

Playing with the food it has been presented with.

The shadows grow closer,

Taunting and using my mind

To get closer to corrupt the innocence.

The Echo

An echo,

Soft and gently,

Yet the remnant

Of something stronger.

 

It travels to be heard,

Only to fall on deaf ears

That are attached to the present,

Present sounds that ignore

The warnings of the past.

 

History always repeats itself,

Creating more echoes,

Serving as a warning for the future

To pay attention to the past,

As long as the ears listen.