Whistling wind

Runs through the trees

Trying to escape

The cold grasp

Of an endless night

 

Haunted

By the shrill screams

Of silence

 

Pine tree soldiers

Stand frozen in time

Pain and sorrow

Paints their aged faces

 

They know too well

Of the horrors

That lurk

Beneath the pine needle carpet

 

There is no escape

For any who enter

Doomed – the trees echo

Their fearful warnings

Go unheard

 

Darkness consumes

Laughing evilly through

A wicked smile

Nothing moves

Nothing breathes

 

Death

The solemn companion

For in this forest

All is lost