They come
In their dark robes...
Anting, breathless
Running away...
Eyes of misty grey -- look out upon the sky,
Crimson tears fall -- tattered wings refuse to...
In ancient times past
In the halls of all races...
Light descends to darkness
The luminousness of the moon...
The full moon is rising
high above the treetops...
All is numb in this world called home. Nothing...
Come, my love
And take the wings of night...
This is a story, not a poem. Its for Creative...
His hands were thick, his fingers big and beefy...
The words, they fail to find me,
thou out in teh open i stand...
Fallen, fallen, is Insanity the great
millions cry as he wakes...
As the world shifts to night
a creature wakes to bring the blight...