The Children

As the moon steals the sunlight away from the day.

And the children grow gloom as they now cannot play.

No longer do they run.. do they laugh.. or eat.

A mystical force surrounds at their feet.

The time passes by and the forest grows thinner.

And the howls of the wind grows older.

They find the grass is no longer green.. and the earth is becomming much colder.

The children feel death loom near the trunks of the trees.. ready to snatch them passing by.

Fear will take those not courageous enough.. they not that this is no lie.

They hear whispers of secrets float through the air.. some forgotten and lost.

Their eyes light with darkness.. they know we are learning that secrets do come at a cost.

Reveal themselves is what they'll do.. be it many years down the track.

The children whisper beware of who knows.. once out then there's no turning back.

Micro Kouklitsa 2005