Within the wood
a vale it’s said
Where shadow men lurk
With empty heads
With loathesome visage, pitted eyes and black hearts they skitter
To stalk my sight and haunt my perimeter
A blink, a shift, nary a thought
I see them dissolve into the murky blot
They stalk me now
I sense them closing
Even as I sit here prosing
My name will they write
In the list of those to forget?
Stitch pink triangle...
