Night

If I'd only listened to the wind before But my gaping eyes were lost; the flying have flown A black horizon, wings, spiraling in all directions And that gentle air now lashes with venom at my windows I'm afraid that I'm awake, but furtive eyes still peep at me Swaying bodies of the trees, bowing down with great groans Bereft of leaves, I can only listen as the song turns to a scream!