Write a poem using words from a famous letter or a letter from your own collection.

a swift breeze raises the hair on his arms
something wicked is coming.

the smell of witchcraft was in
the air, the wood, the roots, the rot.

he was advised not to go into
the deeper woods.

he was told there were devils and demons and things but
all he could see were the glowing eyes of owls.

he followed the beaten path, can't get into much trouble on a
well-worn trail, where others have gone.

he didn't notice there were other eyes besides the
owls, watching him.

nothing would deter him, he felt the pull of existence
leading him into the woods' grasping embrace.

there was heritage among the trees, stories of blood they
all tell, the wind translated their tales from their branches to his ears. 

entering the hollow of the woods, he thought he saw the trees bleeding,
so fixated on this vision, he never heard her behind him.

the blade didn't make a sound as it sprayed the sacrifice across
the bark, she shouted "VENGEANCE!" into the sky.

these part of woods would be safe from so-called explorers, the colonizers,
forever.