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.