The Darkness

The darkness envelops our shadowy souls,
Red blood drips into small gold bowls.
The trees they are swaying and down the leaves fall,
Raging souls are left alone in the hall.

They bang on the walls, they rip the great curtain -
Death, demise, and corruption are certain.
So tormented they roam free, bound by their chains
In an earthly hell, controlled by their pains.

The din they create confuses the masses,
Cracks the small trees and whithers the grasses.
And so as they go, no life to endevor,
The young are told, "Now this.... is forever!"

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© 2000 Lori Greene / NITESHADOW