Path Of Reckoning

Which path will you be on?

The November moon casts a cold silver glow o’er the ancient burial ground far below as midnight mist snakes around old ashen gravestones settled in the ground and badly decayed by each winter’s wrath –it is here that I spy a peculiar path marked by a menacing oak tree; its scraggly dead branches beckon to me like the bone-thin fingers of a timeworn woman. My name is carried to me on the wind, whispered by an unknown entity, telling me it’s here that my journey begins…

 

Fear grips my heart when I pass the great oak, and a legion of others mimic Death’s dark cloak; I tread past them nervously, aware of every step I gain and squint my eyes when I realize the cold November rain has stolen the moonlight from the sky and cursed me with icy shards of pain. I draw my collar up ‘round my neck, driven by instinct to protect myself from the unkind elements; I increase my pace and regretfully lament my unfortunate choice to give in to curiosity – I’m now quite certain evil waits for me. I silently plead to the powers that be to keep me safe from unseen enemies.

 

Smugly perched in the oaks up high are the resident ravens with their judging eyes. I trace their gaze and gasp in fright, for the head of the path has disappeared into the night! With my only means of escape now gone, I swallow hard and continue on. My thoughts are racing wildly and the damned ravens’ eyes are mocking me! The wind carries with it a terrifying tale but I refuse to believe that somewhere in my life I failed. Unwillingly I’m drawn to that which is beckoning; judgment day has come for me, and tonight’s the time for reckoning.

 

I trudge this path owned by Fate and my life’s regrets come haunting me: the wasted years and countless tears -- the movie in my mind plays dauntingly. Promises broken, words not spoken, trusts betrayed and enemies made, anger displayed, bad ways I’d behaved -- my past will not cease taunting me. My head hangs low all the while I go because I suddenly know where my journey ends…the air is drier from the heat of raging fire; my journey is over and I’m abound with dread. I know it’s my time but I am horrified to find that the entire time I walked……..I was already dead.

 

Author's Note

Another write inspired by the photo....and ravens....and weather....and.........

Reviews

[Nicholas Hallows]

Thanks for the request I enjoyed reading this. You really made the most of the imagery and language. I especially liked the second and third stanza. My reading read up as the narrator's thoughts raced and I could sense the feeling of frightful urgency. Very good. NH

[James Watts]

Your imagery is perfect and your words flow so well. Again I enjoyed this work. Well done.

[Tara Jean Olson]

wonderfully penned!

[pal]

very powerful expressions.. each word.. a bullet like piercing out of spitting.. rapidly ..out of high speed firing gun.. yet a high balanced structure in your writing..
bravo
pal

[Deborah Leah Krempa]

A very enjoyable read. I love the even flow of the words as they stream forth into the scenery. Thank you for sharing. Debileah

[Lea Jane]

Woahhh, that was awesome! I love this piece, thanks for asking me to read!

[Celtic Cat]

Before I even read the piece....I am taken aback with your comment and the picture.....a good start indeed!! Now...let me go read it!....
wow. already dead. Quite the unexpected ending....but it makes perfect sense. I love the imagery, I was right there with you in that graveyard....the scary trees, the mocking birds (not mockingbirds!) and the movie of your life. The wasted years....the things you regret. This is brilliant. Love it.

[Roy]

Wow!!!! That was awesome! It was so gripping. Wow!! Very powerful, fascinating. Great ending.

[ah]

this is really great, thanx for asking me to read, keep writing

[Lorna Lee]

WOW.... my heart is still racing. What a powerful piece that really makes one ponder their eternal fate. You have an amazing way of putting into words the things that have secretly frightened or mystified most of us. Thank you for posting this.

[A.J. Smith]

Well, Tania, of course by now you know I love everything you write...am particularly a big fan of how you carefully, subtly weave clever rhyme into your prose structure. I always appreciate your attention to nuance and detail...each word carefully selected and placed. If someone told me you were Poe's great granddaughter, I would not be surprised...you seem to have him in your blood and bones, oh, Mistress of Darkness. ;) You lure your readers in so well, and treat them to a very well-conceived ending. If I had to spend a night in a graveyard (while still alive), I'd want you along to protect me!