• The moon is dull
    Scary and bleak, like a cold winters night
    The trees are dark
    Speaking harsh toungues, scarring the sky

    Somethings missing in the air
    An absence hanging on the edge
    of the lonely strangers mind
    The sillouhette walks in silence
    Hands in dark pockets
    Heart huddled away

    From the harsh atmosphere comes the beasts
    not dark and unerving but familiar...
    when they open their eyes, they awaken the thoughts
    the ones you pushed and shoved away
    all that hard work is melted as they slip into your view again

    all you can do is keep walking
    walking with your dark damp clothes rubbing against you
    perhaps you walk briskly
    or perhaps you walk without a care
    slowly
    foolishly
    you walk towards them unaware

    you cant remember what it was like before they came
    only what it feels like now
    maybe
    eventually
    theyll slip away like the night...