The Path

The dark night, starless, the moon shining dull in the sky
Standing in the forest, the silent trees bare of leaves, sign of the coming winter
Walking slowly, one finds the leaves rustling underneath
While the slow wind whispers past, seeming almost to speak of the quiet voices of many,
Those who have walked this path before.
For there was a path beneath the crackling leaves, signs that the path had been taken before;
And yet, it was overgrown, showing tired signs of a weary road,
More sad then tired, as the ferns drooped over it, barely living and yet, they had been there forever;
The same as the trees, and the leaves, as well as everything in this forest and upon the path,
It had all been there...forever.
For this path is one that cannot be chosen, but chooses.
It does not go anywhere, and yet it has a destination.
It is the walker, that is both of these.
This path has chosen many walkers, and yet the destination has been the same,
The same spot that made the path choose another, and another, and another,
For Eternity.
All of these walkers travelled the path of Shadows, each one thinking that they would find the end,
And yet,  it was the end that found them.
Not the end of life, and yet not living,
It was some space in between ,which was the path and forest,
But you, you are different.
Difference has brought you here, and it’s difference that condemns you here;
There is no escape from this path, many have tried, but yet, all things change.
Change though, is what created the path, the silent path of Shadows-
Each one that has walked here has changed, and the path has changed with each walker,
This mutual evolution is what brought you here, to the silent path of Shadows.
Surprise, as you come to what seems to be the path’s end, but it has not ended,
Before you lies the lake, the quiet lake, the silent lake,
It is here that the walkers end, this spot at which the silent path of Shadows chooses the next walker.
But strangely, the path hesitates, unsure.
There is something different, the very same difference that brought you here, and made the path choose you.
The wind stops, its whispering chorus ending,
And yet, the lake still ripples.
Tiny undulations streaming from some unseen point ahead,
The path changes.
Stepping back, you see as a stretch of land rises from the lake,
The Moon disappears.
Shadow, all encompassing closes in, and yet, you still can see;
For it is not darkness, but twilight,
Twilight that moves the lake and changes it,
For the path has changed, it must, for the walker has found a destination the path did not know,
Walking forward, you see it, the island ahead, surrounded by fog, and yet, fully visible.
The path wants you to see it, for through you it can see,
See why it has been shackled to this fate, this eternity of walkers.
There on the island, there is Shadow, and yet no light.
The path watches with intent, the trees leaning to watch this walker change the path,
But how, how can the path let this happen, it is confused, it has changed but it has always
Known why.
Known that the change must happen so that the walker reaches the destination,
And that destination, is the path.
For the destination is to become the path, to merge, to assimilate into this entity,
The entity that chooses the next walker, that changes with each walker,
And as the night takes the Sun, takes the walker.
Here on the island though, the path is reconciled.
For now, it knows.
Oh it knows why you were chosen, realized why it pulled you here,
Lashed you to itself, and shred you from what you knew to here, the silent path of Shadow.
All the walkers before were missing what made you different,
This difference that the path recognized, as something it was missing.
This missing fragment that would allow it to choose the next,
For there must always be a walker,
This path must have the walker that will find their destination here,
For the walker would give the path its satisfaction,
The satisfaction to choose another,
To choose you.
Here on the island, there is something that contrasts the silent forest,
Something that disturbs the dark nature around it,
A stone dias, a circle, an enclosed ring of rock that is wrapped in shadow,
There are markings along the stone, but they are not there as your hand discovers.
They are shadows, making lines,
Infinite lines, one for each walker that has come,
And for the walkers that will come to pass,
For Eternity.
It is here that the path decides,
A decision, a flash of lighting within itself that causes it to change,
The path that lead to the island, sinks back into the still lake,
Closing.
The silent path of Shadows knows why it needed you,
For it is something that it lost,
Memories, emotion, soul, feeling.
You have these, and yet they have been denied to the path,
Each walker before you had these, but yours...
It wants yours.
The Shadow solidifies, the fleeting movements at the corners of your eyes,
Become shapes, figures, people.
Each one that has walked the path before,
Standing there as a Shadow vanguard,
And from between them comes it,
It crawls forward, and you are immobilized.
A mighty maw opens, revealing a grey mist within.
A grey mist, a mist of twilight,
A final slight resemblance to the sky that turns back to black,
You are consumed, absorbed, assimilated, becoming one with the path.
The Shadows form another figure, and recede back from the weary path.
The silent path of Shadows.
And in the distance,
Footsteps.