The Path

The deadened grass crackled underneath my bare feet

Stepping on stones piercing the soles of my feet

For once I strayed from the well worn path

My blood being spilled for the pleasure of cruiosity

I continue making my own path; there comes a sound

a predator; unknown

I run causing the stalks and seeds to cling to me

My hair, my clothes, and some plant themselves in my heart

causing my skin to itch and cuts to errupt

As the gait of the unknonw starts to quicken like the sound of blood in my ears

As I glance back to see if the beast is behind me,

I lose my balance and my face comes into contact with the ground

tears cling onto my eyelids as I scamper to right myself.

Fear slithers it's way up my back and pierces my spine with its talons

tears fall now

lips quivering

As darkened eyes make contact with mine.

Only one thought comes to my mind.

Of all days to stray from the path; why today?