Going unsteady in the marshland

into the ancient trees that beckon.

The vicious rose keeps its guards on alert

as the whistling wind and leaves flirt.

Let me step into this terrain

and find myself a stranger,

straining for bustling activity.

A red light going green,

doors opening to close,

or a screeching authorative voice?

No, nothing, stirs

just a rust-coloured beetle

scatterring away.

Strangely calm now, I step forward

into this painted world.

Twigs break and branches shake.

Down, down, down

flies a butterfly and lands

in my shirt.

Intoxicated, I move to avoid

the outreached hands of thorns.

The dark canopy of green

splatterred with sun rays

slit through me and desires melt.

Layers of me peel off and I turn

away to return to

a screeching authorative voice far away,

translucent doors opening to close

and the faded red lights turning green.

Just something I penned in Mualimah class.