The trees reach over high, blocking out the little light,

A crow, a raven, a vulture or two standing tall within my sight.

Scattering the branches, as if circling in dance,

My eyes follow them, finding myself lost in a trance.

I follow along my way and pass them by, none even letting out a caw,

A hoot of my name is what is said, an owl joined them, I saw.

Despite this, I carry on, further through the wooded trees,

Glancing every now and then to the pocket resting in my coat's fleece.

I wish to give a sigh, as my hands reach to my sore neck,

Wishing to pull out the piece of paper, the only clue to my long trek.

As I look forward blankly, my empty eyes staring ahead,

I think "Why can't I read the letter and now end the dread?"

But rather I don't, in fear of what I'd find.

Instead I journey on, not a clue of what's inside.

Though what I know however, is a clue within it's own.

I know it comes from him, however, and that is set in stone.

"But never shall I find out what secrets it can keep?",

My thoughts run wild, my mind taking its own large leap.

"But to where am I going? To where does he send me?",

Though I'm blinded by these questions, I know I shall soon see.