Sadness echo'd by cries in the night.
Sounds of mournful, cruel remourse.
Caught up by the wind's course...
The calls hoarse instead of smooth...
Etching themselves into the ear's groove.
Allst the while underneath moon's light.
Shining Cobwebs illuminated by the moon.
Trees, jagged and whispering, stretch up
Towards the gray depressions of clouds.
The Bats let out shrieking self-croons.
Remorse, The Sudden Change in Course.
How was it? Anything I can do (There is always something to do)?
Comments
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ah i enjoyed this its at the mood of a dark cold day
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