Where The Forest Meets The Meadow…

In a forest of bracken, with dead-crushed-skulls. Fern fronds black crow's toadstools and horror there are armies of creatures hidden from sight only shows-their teeth in the midst-of-moonlight gaunt expressions spy out beneath this dark flora with fixed stares, a mingling of moist-mixed-bloods. Here in this forest, every noise threatens death, but on the flip side, it's an ark of survival a place of imminent danger or protracted life lived out on the edge of a field that magnifies a spring meadow where the sun levels its rifle, it-takes-aim at another's - enigmatic bequests.