-x-
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
-x-
A tall figure made his way through the thicket, astride a sleek black mare. The snow was falling around him in a gentle swirl, but he hardly paid any attention to it; his mind was preoccupied with visions of flames and fumes of burnt skin. The memories were imprinted in his mind vividly, the fairly recent events had yet to release him from their ghostly enchantment.
Suddenly halting, the rider looked around. Large and dark trees loomed in front of him, their secret compelling. What was beyond their drooping branches? What lay hidden behind their old trunks?
She probably knew.
He glanced behind him, in the direction of the small town he had been heading to. The church, an old and abandoned building, was probably gushing with devout old women and inspired virgins, all praying. To her. For her. He had been on the way itself to pay his respects to the place where she used to fall to her knees and pray.
She prayed for him. She always had, the young girl confided in him one night on the battlefield. Her eyes had been glowing, excited and dutiful to her country and nation. And to god, most of all. The same god that had cherished her so much, that he took her away from the cursed and filthy earth.
But he had left him, as always.
-x-
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
-x-
Months had passed since that fateful day in which unbearable heat had taken his savoir from him cruelly. Ironically enough, the fire burnt during May- the season of growth and renewal. Now, December in its peak, the earth was silent. No war cries or vengeful rage. Only a dull and solemn silence.
Nothing seemed to have mattered since then. Emotions had long since gone from his capability; both pain and joy no longer in his vocabulary. A pointless roam on the frozen ground was his occupation and mission. A pointless, enduring mission, that many had failed before him and would most likely fail after him. Not that he had an after- this mission was eternal.
-x-
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
-x-
The fire encircled her, sending wisps of smoke up to heaven to announce her momentary arrival. Through her tears, the chosen one managed a smile. Hardly wincing as the flames licked her flesh, she lifted her ivory cross from her neck to her face, pressing it softly against her lips. Her last act on earth, before her soul escaped her material prison.
No one had noticed when a young blond with sapphire eyes screamed in the crowds, a silent plea released from wide-open lips. Those jeweled eyes were staring unbelievingly at the burning maiden, terror and shock reflecting from them. Tears, pouring relentlessly down his cheeks, blurred his vision as he remained stationary to his place, refusing to leave his savoir in her time of need.
At long last, the ordeal was over. Trembling, he had approached the ashes long after the bored crowd had dissolved. Hesitantly, lithe fingers circled a shiny object, holding it tightly to his chest.
A cross.
-x-
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
-x-
Lifting his eyes once again to brace his surroundings, he sighed, rubbing his horse affectionately behind his ear softly. Reality was cruel and demanding, and at times all he wanted to do was to curl up in bed and never wake up. Studying the clearing, the temptation was never greater. A heavy and deadly metal object was strapped fast to his thigh, more than capable of granting anyone the eternal sleep he wished for. But it was too late for him.
He slowly lowered his hand to his leg and began feeling around for the weapon. After a few moments of blind groping, he had found it, his hand circling around and gripping it tightly.
The man lifted the knife and studied it intently in the dark, the metal gleaming. But, dangling from the dagger was a small necklace with an ivory charm, white as the snow that was falling around him.
A small smile curved his lips, and he returned the weapon back to its place. He couldn't break his promise to her, in the end. Giving the woods one last sweeping glance, he turned around and rode away.
Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;
This was a very hurried and short... thing. I don't even know what to call it XD In half an hour, though, it was done. And mind you, this does have a purpose. Today, a fifteen year old boy committed suicide after being verbally abused on Facebook. Not a rare case, I suppose, but shocking enough here. This was written in his memory. Guys- remember to treat each other civilly everywhere, including on the internet. It's very much a matter of life and death.
In English class we learnt 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, which was really appropriate for the occasion. After a bit of thought, I matched the poem to Francis, surprisingly enough *grin*
Yes, Francis is the rider. Yes, the girl he is talking about is Joan. I'll actually stop here with the explanations- just go read the poem and figure it out yourself, or look up different interpretations. This poem is just brilliant, and I tried to match each paragraph to the stanza.
I do not own the Italicized text. It belongs to Robert Frost, the genius *^*
What do you think of my interpretation? Can you find all the clues in the text that connect to the poem? Do you just love Robert Frost? Review! :D
-Hanna