The Path

Far far there in trees
Wherein I found myself stood
Amongst the wailing leaves
Amongst the howling wolves
A statue resurrected, with a brief inscription
It read no dread, just words from dead
‘Light of fire turned to stone’
The garnished path for those known noed
All nod when pass and calmly ask
Their wish fulfill’d if off’d their mask
This magic hat was purely sat
It rackets words from mapping naps
A pristine awe and magic claw
I glanced at eyes so sweet and saw