The Woods

This is just a short passage of descriptive writing I thought I'd like to throw in, it's about a small forest in my home village that I love to go to for inspiration and relaxation, yet I've always seen another side to it...

The woods: a place so breath-takingly angelic, yet so blood-curdlingly terrifying. Soft rainfall harmonises with the endless songs of a hauntingly beautiful, feathered orchestra, as the leaves submit as a percussion piece. The sinister music envelops the woods in a tight grasp, preventing the world outside to contaminate the eerie beauty of nature within. Droplets of liquid emerald slip off silky leaves, to crash onto the dusty ground below; almost velvety brown branches sweep along in the wind, offering a wooden hand as I climb steadily up the one tree I return to always. The emptiness of the night, atop a leafed guardian in the frozen heart of the frozen woods. Rustling leaves shiver and shake, chained until autumn, denied both sleep and to hide in their terror, whenever night falls; slowly consumed by the darkness, corrupted by the evil that stalks silently within the trees- an invisible demon. Silver stars pierce the midnight quilt above the trees, a ghostly presence; a flickering glow of vacant eyes. Cold, empty air trickles down my throat, gripping my lungs with icy fingers, tearing me apart from the inside. The unnerving sensation of being watched- both alarming and suspicious- compels my every shuddering footstep into a labyrinth of an infinitive song’s wary slumber, twirling into frosty oblivion. A terrifying emptiness filled with hidden monsters, cursed each night to turn as evil as the white moon, that glares upon the woods. A home; a prison; a grave. The woods.