Abyss

Blood red sun lights up the sky,

The birds are free to sing and fly,

The towering trees create a skyline,

There's no recollection of wasted time,

The smell of pine invades the air,

The needles drift without a care,

Under the canopy of tangled leaves,

The mind and soul is set at ease,

The peeling bark of an elder tree,

The spongy moss growing underneath,

In the distance scampers a tiny critter,

Late September air is crisp and bitter,

Colorful leaves of red and brown,

Swirling until they hit the ground,

Leaves crunch and dirt shifts,

This is the journey into the abyss.