Can you hear it,
As it writhes through your mind,
When you hear it,
Don’t look behind,
Or left or right; for that matter,
Watch your back,
And stay well away from the well-trodden track,
Near the clawing ancient trees,
Rising from the ground,
Where the horse cries of crows,
Call through air without sound,
Silver cloaked air,
And yesterday’s song,
Much like today,
Although today is long gone,
The smiles here are thin,
And whisper in the breeze,
They’re wiry and dark,
Much like the trees,
....
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