okay so readers please don't be harsh, this is what i wrote when i was in a state. The state in which im NOT thinking or planning. its my soul which is writing. :p
When the wind speaks of a severe storm
When the sky casts down a gloomy glow
Your breath will turn into wisps of smoke
Your body will feel ever so cold
When the atmosphere will turn to ice
There will be nothing you can put to your suffice
It’s the day of the departed man
That once walked this dreary place
Singing for dear life
Singing for dear life
He was not to live for long
As the cats had already begun to mourn
Singing for dear life
Singing for dear life
He remembered his filthy sins
As his soul was about to be thrown in a bin
A bin of anguish, a bin in which he was to be burnt
Burnt In the fire he had brought with himself
When the shadows danced in the moonlight
He crumbled in different shades of fright
Singing for dear life
Singing for dear life
He begged for mercy
Nothing is more horrifying to human than the gloom of the night forest.
The silent swaying of the trees
The suspicious sounds from the bushes
The feel of the night air
The devouring darkness
Aye he did live an amusing life
However he did not die a peaceful death
The end of him is still unknown
Nobody lived to tell the horrifying yarn
The unseen have no laws
Yet they seem so far
They say they tore him from limb to limb
Whilst he breathed the tormenting air
They had come from the trees
They had hung on the trees
Waiting for the unfortunate fiend to arrive
Aye they were not human
They smashed his ailing ribs
Like the way he tormented the hostages he kept
His body was never found
His history dead and gone
Think thrice before you see the night storm you may never know
Where it might persuade you to go
