Forest of Darkness

There is a road that winds down the mountains into the valley below. Nestled in the valley is a small village. There is a river that flows from the mountains past the village, into the forest beyond.

The forest is dark, the trees huddled together, as if hiding from a storm. There is a darkness there that does not sleep. It prowls through the woods as a shadow, devouring all who trespass into its lands.

But there are times that the darkness leaves its forbidden woods and ventures out into the valley. And it is times like these that death is a welcome guest.

The darkness does not bring death, only torment and pain. It devours you from the inside out, but does not kill you. It penetrates your mind to your very soul, but it will allow no peace.

Only pain.

It drives the strongest warrior to his knees, cries of agony worse than of a woman in labor. There are none who can stand against the darkness.

Even now, as I glance out my window toward the forest, the darkness creeps toward the village, raising its shadowy head in a cry of war, of triumph.

The children are being sent into the mountains to take refuge until the darkness retreats. But none of the adults will answer the children as to when it will be safe to return.

The darkness has be attacking more often and staying longer. The time will soon come when the darkness will no longer retreat.

I can hear the mothers crying over sending their children away, but clinging to the chests of their husbands. They know that the children are safest sent away. The children are most susceptible to the darkness, becoming twisted to its will, pawns of darkness.

There is still hope- as long as the children are kept safe, there is still hope.

Hope for a new beginning. Hope for brighter future. Hope to overthrow the darkness and banish it from the valley forever.

But there was a time when we had no hope. A time in the not too distant past.