Flash Fiction Friday #34: The Traveller

So i decided to play a lil ambitious with this one, i wanted to get an epic poem feel, then i kinda didn't feel like settling down to write, hence the delay. not sure if i'm completely satisfied with the end result, but i certainly don't hate it.
i could have gone subtle with the words but i decided against it.

fff#34: (choice of inclusion) ghost, roast, boast, toast, host.

The traveller had been warned against this route

Though it promised to be quicker.

Brave,

Strong,

Could survive anything

that was thrown at him,

Was his boast,

Though the weariness that licked his feet,

The hunger, his belly,

And the cold, his back,

Threatened to prove him wrong.

Before he could regret his pride,

In the distance appeared a light,

Luck was still at his side.

He made it to the door

and knocked thrice upon it.

It was opened to reveal

A kindly old widower

Who offered,

In return for his company,

Free lodging and even fare for the night.

Once inside and warm,

With promises of food to follow,

Our traveller settled to listen

To the old man’s yarn.

He spoke quite fondly

Of days that had been too long past,

And lovers long dead,

And the ways things 

Should have turned out instead.

When the traveller received

His warm meat

And cold ale,

He proposed a toast

To warm feet,

A good roast,

And goodwill to all men.

When our traveller awoke

By the light of the dawn,

His benevolent host

Was no where to be found.

The room was far less attractive

Without the light of the fire,

And the hearth seemed

Too cold for a flame

Only hours expired.

Nonetheless he gathered

His effects and dusted his coat,

And continued his journey

To where he was bound.

Only when he was

Well along his way

Did it occur for him to wonder,

That perhaps his host wasn’t human,

Perhaps his host was a ghost.