Revenge of the Dead
Screams of souls fill newborn night
As I stand still 'gainst black twilight
Etched upon the forest's sanguine blight.
I cannot say what led me here tonight.
Unrest, perhaps.
These trees I've touched in light of day
Now sputter, cough, as they laugh and sway
Mocking me with branches vile;
Breaking wood forms twisted smiles.
The moon surfaces from the darkened sky—a ray alights—
But only to bring my shadows,
And the third that walks beside us;
I had hid in the daylight.
These trees, familiar trees, violent trees,
Hold and seize,
For I once breathed the mist of the battlefield upon their faces—these familiar faces—
I waited, hoped, for their cold embraces,
Wanting not their lingering traces or humanly graces,
But their hatred, malice, anger, and appetite
Never came.
I hide in the daylight.
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