On the Edge of the Village

By Izyk Pombar

On the edge of a village, where the woods grow thick, Lived an old man, in his cabin of stick, 

A shadowy place, where few dared to waste. With fog filled air, and nightmares that must be faced 

With a hood on his head and a staff in his hand,

He wandered the woods, crossed meadow and sand. He wasn’t a hunter, nor farmer, nor sage, 

But the villagers wondered why he walked at this age. 

One autumn night, when the wind howled strong,

A girl named Ella heard the old man’s song. Her father was sick, and her brother away. She needed help, but who would say 

With heart full of hope and a bit of dread,

She followed the trail that the old man led. 

Through rocks and roots, her courage unrelenting, 

Each step into the woods her fear was cementing. 

She found him at last, by a tree of oak, 

Where the shadows played tricks and the darkness spoke. 

He whispered words that made the night grin. 

“I’ve been expecting you, child, for the woods know the troubles, and the loss that you’re in.” 

Ella stepped forward, her voice trembling low, 

“My father is dying, I beg you to go.” 

The Keeper stood silent, his gaze in the night, 

Then raised his hand, and the woods bloomed with light. 

“A trade must be made, for magic’s not free 

To save your father, what will you give me?” 

She thought for a moment, then said with resolve,

“Take my youth, my dreams, whatever to solve!” 

But the Lantern Keeper shook his head, 

“Your youth is too fragile and your dreams are not dead.” Instead, he plucked from the air a small shining seed, “Plant this by his bedside, it’s all that you’ll need. 

But be warned, young Ella, the price you shall pay Will come when the dawn melts the stars away.” By morning, the air was full of sweet bloom, Her father awakened, no longer in gloom. 

Ella smiled, her heart filled with light 

But the price she had paid soon revealed its blight. A lantern appeared in her hand, glowing bright, And she walked the woods, guiding lost souls at night

And so the story, like seasons, turns round, Of Ella the Keeper, her steps without sound. She traded her life, not for riches nor fame. But to carry the lantern and inherit its flame.

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Biography

My name is Izyk Pombar and I am a sophomore. When I am not in school, I like watching new movies and shows. While in school, I love doing Speech and Debate, and Mock Trial.

What is your main source of inspiration?

My surroundings and the people around me

What is your ideal writing environment?

A quiet classroom where I have my headphones on