The Key

The silver key that rested in her hand,
without a lock to fit into.
Was it part of a grand house,
that was destroyed long ago,
consumed by fire,
war,
age?
Does it even have a lock
or is it just a manifestation of dream?
Could it possibly be the key to unlock her nightmares
and free her from their hold.

Because here,
in this desolate forest
where the black trees reach into the sky
and their dead leaves tumble down to form a crisp blanket.
In this forest where the mist obscures everything
isolating the girl.
That is what scares her,
not knowing what is out there,
what could be coming for her.
She is waiting for something,
but what she doesn't know.

Every night,
trapped
in the same dark place
and yet tonight it is different.
The key,
the cool firmness of silver resting in her palm.
And the fact that,
this time she might discover
what she is waiting for.

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