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The Pathe

Written by: Shannon Riley


There is a pathe, winding through an ancient forest. What lies upon
this pathe Icannot tell, but what lies beside it I see clearly. There are graves,
some for loved ones that I have lost, others, for toys and possessions, but
perhapsthe most disturbing are the graves for dreams lost in the night.
Along the pathethere are nameless faces looking down upon me. Some are
joyous, others are sad or angry, and some are contorted with agony or
twisted with hatred. Then there are the faces that are cold and empty with
eyes that show their true emotions. Looking down the patheI see a sight that
chills my very soul. There, growing upon the crest of a hill,is a single black
rose entwined around a blade of the purest white. There is a pathe, winding
through an ancient forest. What lies upon this patheI do not know, but
where it ends, of that I am certain. It ends in the abyss, in an eternal
darkness where both good and evil must come to rest. It ends in the abysmal
depths of death. Where it leads from there I cannot say, for that is another
journey, one which no one in this world shall ever know, but one that we all
must one day embark upon. There is a pathe.