Desolate and dark the woods were now, sinister as a cave
Noises creeping around every corner, like ghosts in the midnight scene
The trees are a never ending maze of terror, winding though the forest
Roots of trees come up from the ground, purposely trying to trip you
But otherwise, graceful, as if trying to dance in the wind

The moon is full and shining down on the tip-tops of the trees
And through some cracks and open spaces the moonlight brightens the ground
Though shadows dark and sun vanished, for no sunlight yet above
No way out until morning comes, which it never will
But in this forest lies a key that opens every sound
Every sound of the night comes alive tonight

A mother wolf howls at the moon, teaching her young how
A porcupine scurries across the moonlit ground back into the bushes
Meanwhile, an owl hoots and swoops down to catch his prey,
A tasty snack, now a mouse carcass lies in its belly

Or the twigs cracking under the jumping hares foot
Another sound is the soft croak of the frog, against the background of rushing water
One buzzing annoying mosquito, yes, only one, though now make it none,
For the soft croak of that frog had paused to eat,
Then started again

But all these sounds put together,
Does not make any racket, it makes one voice
Combined, intertwined, tangled
To hold within the forest, and only opened at night with that one key
Making it, the Voices of the Night