When the moon is thin and the sky is dark,

If you trail the footsteps of thousands old ,

And press a bare hand to the withing bark,

Revealed to you, stories never told.

Glimpses of shattered memories,

Images fluttering through mist,

Shaping together long-lost mysteries,

From deep in the shadows, on a night just like this.

Death in the darkness, lying there, bound,

His cloak stained in whispers and blood.

Lost things that refuse to be found,

Burning away in the fire and flood.

The smokey scent of dust and ashes

A glistening of children’s tears.

All their lives passed, in flashes,

Each drowned within sorrow and fears.

You draw away, heart beating fast,

Gasping in the sudden cold,

Dawn is breaking, but it won’t last

Now you’ve seen what the dark can hold.