In the placid mists
That settle softly in the valley
Upon the onset of evening
The memories of bygone days
Carry the whispers of spirits lost
Those silent whistlers of the past
Shake the needles of the pines
They chase away the dew
And rustle the dry moss
That clings to cracked forgotten tombstones
The haunting fog is broken
By the shadows cast
By the rusted bars of iron
On the graveyard gate
Even in the long midnight shadows
That seem to swallow up the moonlight
Shy away from those whispers
Crunching footsteps on the back road gravel step
Wary of the ghostly forms
Eyes wide and shining
Fearing the legends of the woods
Crouching down clutching the bars
Peering into the cemetery
A wash of mists clears
To reveal the onlooker's mane
Freshly carved onto shiny marble
The family plot complete
"You are one of us now,"
Murmured a distant relative
A memory of bygone days
"Join us in our chants,
Carry your story and disturb the night,
Hear no more tales of spirits lost,
Only whisper to the
Passer by"
In The Placid Mists by Mystical notes

