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We howl upwards, To the sky. Waxing, waning, Sing goodbye. We sing our song, Our mournful howl, It ends with snarls, A rippling growl.
That very minute she drew her final breath, mama went crazy. She started to sob uncontrollably until some of the town folk came into our house and did our chores. I was devastated.
Once upon a time There was a pretty young girl Whose wore a hood of deepest red Like a rose petal, unfurled Or like blood, that richest red Bright against her ivory face She was a rose blessed with...
They come through the darkness. Creeping through the shadows. Silently they slip through the trees. Hunting, watching, waiting. They live as a family. Together from the time they’re born.