By Arwa Darukhanawalla
cold was the night,
the wind how it blowed,
I was lost in the grasp of darkness,
and surrounded by the cold.
creaks did I hear,
in every step that I took,
a tortured moaning, someone bellowed,
and my heart, how it shook.
trembled, my lips did,
as I exhaled a cloud of white,
an icy, skeletal hand took me by the waist,
and imprisoned me into the night.
~ aonaran
Arwa
The Weeping Willow
- Arwa
She walked through the graveyard
Past every crumbling stone
Above all the bodies
That were left to be alone
In the middle she stood
Under the clouded, gloomy sky
She caught glimpse of a weeping willow
Through the corner of her eye
The closer she walked
The more dead leaves she found
And as she leaned on the bark
She felt something beneath the ground
She dared to look up
To an eerie cry
For under the weeping willow
Is where the spirit lies
A crystalline being
Arose from beneath her feet
Shadowing the girl
So that light beams could not reach
The spirit descended
In a single breath
When she looked at the figure
She was reminded only of death
A chilling wind blew
From east to west
Seizing the spirit
No longer the only one possessed
The girl leaned on the bark
Then collapsed to the ground
A teardrop fell
She felt depressed profound
As she lay on the Earth
She closed her eyes
For under the weeping willow
Is where the spirit lies
The Witching Hour
- Arwa
At the stroke of midnight,
They haunt the dark woods,
They come out of the shadows,
They uncover their hoods,
A hideous laugh,
And a daunting smile,
They take over the night,
And heist every child in sight,
When the people blow out their candles,
And the stars reveal themselves,
The full moon hallows their presence,
They cast their maleficent spells,
And when a thick mist blankets the forest,
And the time to play is done,
They crawl back into the shadows,
Until the time comes.
its lifeless eyes pierced i
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