So i decided to play a lil ambitious with this one, i wanted to get an epic poem feel, then i kinda didn’t feel like settling down to write, hence the delay. not sure if i’m completely satisfied with the end result, but i certainly don’t hate it.
i could have gone subtle with the words but i decided against it.
The traveller had been warned against this route
Though it promised to be quicker.
Brave,
Strong,
Could survive anything
that was thrown at him,
Was his boast,
Though the weariness that licked his feet,
The hunger, his belly,
And the cold, his back,
Threatened to prove him wrong.
Before he could regret his pride,
In the distance appeared a light,
Luck was still at his side.
He made it to the door
and knocked thrice upon it.
It was opened to reveal
A kindly old widower
Who offered,
In return for his company,
Free lodging and even fare for the night.
Once inside and warm,
With promises of food to follow,
Our traveller settled to listen
To the old man’s yarn.
He spoke quite fondly
Of days that had been too long past,
And lovers long dead,
And the ways things
Should have turned out instead.
When the traveller received
His warm meat
And cold ale,
He proposed a toast
To warm feet,
A good roast,
And goodwill to all men.
When our traveller awoke
By the light of the dawn,
His benevolent host
Was no where to be found.
The room was far less attractive
Without the light of the fire,
And the hearth seemed
Too cold for a flame
Only hours expired.
Nonetheless he gathered
His effects and dusted his coat,
And continued his journey
To where he was bound.
Only when he was
Well along his way
Did it occur for him to wonder,
That perhaps his host wasn’t human,
Perhaps his host was a ghost.
