I’ll tell thee everything I can;
There’s little to relate.
I saw an aged, aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
“You’re on your own.
And you know what you know.
And you are the one who’ll decide where to go.”
Great woods, you frighten me like cathedrals;
You roar like the organ;
And in our cursed hearts,
Respond the echoes of your inner soul.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Into seas without a shore;
With forms that no man can discover;
When singing songs of scariness,
I feel obligated at this moment to remind you
Of the most ferocious beasts of all.
“I’ll be judge,
I’ll be jury,
I’ll try the whole cause and condemn you to death.”
But the darkness is itself a canvas
Beings with understanding looks, who have vanished:
“You’ll miss the best things if you keep your eyes shut.”
There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part.
So just give me a happy middle,
And a very happy start.