Lost Traveler

As I wandered through the trees and the dancing lilies
I got a glimpse of what appeared to me a woman;
forward moved my feet, enchanted by the vision
and the trees grew tall and the darkness darker
and all the ground of the shire began to shake
as the night spread deep into the forest's soul

Alas, the chanting reached my soul
as soft as the whisper of the lilies
and the whole of me was shaken
as from the trees she emerged: the woman
as pale as death and with hair darker
than man was ever allowed vision

Indeed as gazing I fairly envisioned
her lips a blossom, her eyes a soul
behind a mist, an ancient pool of clear darkness;
and threaded with her locks I could see – and lord, even savor – white lilies
that glimmered like her skin under the red moon; the woman
reached towards me with a hand of shaken

winter, and caught my own hands shaking
and her proximity made me shiver and her vision
falter as I followed her through the forest. Several women
awaited by a fire chanting and as she glided my soul
startled came to dancing to the rhythm of the lilies
singing a song as old as darkness

and as I watched the music darkened
the forest gasping, the wind shaking
I was driven to the lady of the lilies
standing before the flames, her face a vision
bathed in red as if the fire stirred from her very soul
and as sudden as a dream a circle of women

around me was formed, dancing like nymphs until the woman
revealed her eyes to the sky. As they revered her dark
gleaming red gaze, I felt her eyes cutting inside, gripping my soul
each finger clutching deep until I fell shaking
to the ground. Her eyes nailed to my body, a devilish vision
which blinded me helpless; and the perfume of lilies

engulfed me as I shook at the feet of the woman
her eyes of blood a vision of everlasting darkness
which hung above the burning lilies as the witch fed on my soul.