In the mist of the night, The cold whispers his song. It gives you goosebumps, As you walk along. A straight narrow footpath, Bats flying through the air, An icy chill, A cold hard stare. Figures passing by, Shadows of the trees. Woodland animals scurrying, They’re all awake you see. Lampposts flickering, Stars shining. Headlights are a glow, Leaves falling. Mornings calling, Time to go home. Rss Apple Podcaster →
