Let me tell you a story Of a young boy I met two years ago. But before I begin, There are things you must know. The legends are true: There are sirens of the sea Whose haunting melody Lures sailors to their watery graves. But there are also The faeries of the forest Whose venomous magic Lures hikers to their early demise. Do not be enchanted By the vibrant hues of the leaves — The most brilliant colors Are the most dangerous. I say this because The forest is cursed. Anyone who dares venture inside Will be forgotten by all. There is no escape Not even in death. And when your body is a rotting corpse, Your soul will continue to wander. It was this fateful day two years ago When I met the young boy I spoke of earlier. He does not tremble or run Even after I warn him of the curse. Instead, he looks at me With mournful gray eyes. He tells me he is not afraid For he is already forgotten. He steps inside the forest Without so much of a farewell. I watch him disappear into the shadows, And that was the last I heard from him. I do not know what became Of the young boy Who ventures inside a cursed forest To suit his lonely soul. And I do not know if the legends are true — If sirens or faeries indeed exist. For everything I had said Is not exactly black and white. There was never any forest — Only the boy’s imagination; There was never any curse — Only the boy’s loneliness. But all the same, I met a young boy This fateful day two years ago. He stepped into the unknown alone, And I hadn’t seen him since.