The cool, dew covered grass envelopes my worn soles in a bitter cold grasp
A grasp so tight, on this creature of me, stealing shadows in nighttimes hours
In the time of a newborn midnight, under the golden goddess of lunar beauty
Under the trees that sway under a breezes power, braches carried to and fro
To the flakes of winter tears that drift down from the eyes of darkness
Their cool white texture melting onto the palette of green grass
From behind aging bark of an even older oak, I watch the forest sleep
In its serene peacefulness of the night, the sweet peaceful night
Yet to the evil eye, that harbors within my soul I can see what happens in stolen shadows
The creatures are moving, their nocturnal ways foreign to anybody but me
For I understand their ways, for I am a creature of the night