The Forest of the Dead

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All around the fabled forest

Whispered the restless spirits

They hid in trees and lakes and ponds

Waiting for a lost soul to arrive

Their moaning filled the night sky

Creating a chill in the air

No one could hear their wordless cries

Except the old trees they haunted

The moon's light reflected from a puddle

Left from the morning's rain

But a spirit rose to block the moon

All its light absorbed into the invisible being

Branches dipped as spirits flew by

Yet the spirits themselves were never seen

And an icy cold filled the trees

Freezing those who dared to touch them

And beneath the black sky the spirits cried

For someone to hear their century-old pleas

The trees begged for the moaning to stop

But restless spirits have no ears

And every night and every day

They roam the forest and with pleas

Beg to have their lives back

To be released from their invisible states

To never again remember their deaths

But the forest remains filled with spirits

All of whom are trapped where they died

Destined to haunt those who dare

To enter the forest of the dead


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