There is a map of turns and twists,
and lines in all directions,
Put no eye on the X;
the remorseless sailor won’t lead a miss.

With finely manicured edges,
it has no boards; yet plenty of laws.
Overlooked by one of its most menacing inhabitance;
with coarse skin, scorching breath, sitting on high ledges.

Hardwood stretched in neatly a lined row,
in colours of black red and gold.
Scurrying about them awkwardly;
a gangly being that no one knows.

Follow the woods farther North,
heed warnings of crimson fur scavenging in a baron wasteland.
Sly and wit mistaken for intelligence and wisdom;
don’t be lead astray, holdfast; bare forth.

Stand in the river,
the stars come into view.
Dreams with out motivation are unattainable;
alone left to shiver.

Safely on the other side,
Reach up and grab one.
With support from home;
there’s nothing to hide.