Orange-lit moon baffles our eyes
Eerie thoughts are not denied
Billowy gusts grasp our hands
Something breathes beneath this land
Over-shadowing mists reign up high
Darting naked through our audible sighs
Hauntingly pleasing sounds we hear
Flapping wings aren’t birds we fear
Blood trickles to drive us insane
We find everything else to blame
All of us seem to be quite knotted
While floating in graves of those forgotten
Panicked steps try dismissing such sights
As thirsting lust reads us our rites.