“I hope I’m going the right way.”
Said the man, putting away his compass.
Useless without a map or knowledge of his surroundings
And an absence of signs.

His friends had warned him
“Don’t go alone”
They said
He didn’t listen

The night stretched into an eternity
The sinister woods grew
With each wandering step
He became lost

Nothing but the sound of mosquitos
And the presence behind him
It was too late.
His friends were right,

He shouldn’t have gone alone.

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A Poem based on a short story written using story dice.