Moon, Cheshire crescent hangs high
Lazy breeze, making the branches sigh
Shadows creeping, jerking over the ground
Surrounded by the nighttime sound
The wild chorus flies
Beneath the voidless skies
Understand what only the trees have heard
The winged, the clawed, the beaked bird
Harsh call of the rook, the crickets sing
On their ropes they begin to swing
What has been given, they have took
They search , yet cannot look
Slow as the earth, the mist rise
Raising secrets that shall not lie
Who said the night was silent?
When voices cry out, defiant
Those that have been forgotten
That now are lost and rotten
Simply a dried old husk
Hidden by the forest musk
YOU ARE READING
Compilation of Poetry
PoetrySome times I just gotta get stuff off my chest. Cry for attention? Probably not. Just want to see if others appreciate my poetry. See what others think. Hey, maybe my emotional side can entertain. :)
