I Dont Have A Title
Although it's hard to believe, I know
They lurk in the shadow of the moonlight's glow.
They know the reason I have come
To the woods for those who can't face what they've done.
A part of me must think it's queer
To go to their woods this time of year.
Echoing around me in the dead of night
Are the endless shrieks of misery and fright.