A Copse in Waiting

This began as an exercise. See if you can find the constraints I used!

Acquired patience pushes her forward. Building and constructing is all that she does. Continuously spinning around and around creating her very own dwelling. Directions are drawn with her many eyes that plan the next move. Efficiency and diligence are no strangers to her. Flawlessly working to finally finish, she presses onward toward the only available goal. Ghostly flora surrounds the now finished web glistening in morning dew. Huge trees canopy over everything making it impossible to see the sky. Icy curtains of Spanish moss hang from nearly every limb that sway and dance to eerie sounds that vibrate from within the copse that seems to sing songs of when the forest was younger and still growing, rather than a now dead and festering place that is cursed and haunts the earth with strange creatures that no man has ever seen, however, in spite of the dreary and macabre atmosphere that is naturally perceived, an odd beauty can be seen inside this source of dark and gloom where many species stay clear because of powerful fear caused by the fog’s snare. Jeering the forest, the men walked by. “Killers,” the forest seemed to whisper and creak as they pass. Leering back at the forest, the men exchanged words and hurried on their way. Many passed the forest every day and never gave it a second glance. Not a soul noticed that the forest was a true and living thing. Oracles gave and heeded warning of the forest for they knew that the forest was wild and could not be tamed. Pregnant with revenge, the forest waited for a moment to take the lives of men. Quintessence of natural and earth born sin, macabre, and fantasy inhabit eternally here. Rogues make their camps behind the forest only to discover them destroyed. Sinews of one rogue are all that is left. Tombs made with bone and blood stand just inside the trees to ward off enemies. Uncontrolled land of heresy is this! Victorious will be the day when nature triumphs over man. War will be had and it shall be the war to end all wars indefinitely. Xenogenesis would be the only appeasement to the land. Yet, it’s impossible. Zephyrs rise and settle as the forest waits for a day when the human race is wiped from the earth like a cruel and sadistic parasite; meanwhile, the forest sits patient and brooding.