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A choir of screams

Echo through the night air

A suffering symphony

A conference of cacophony

The souls of the lost

Forever wandering

Within this pathless forest

Wailing in a haunting chorus

A communal, suicidal destination

An abysmal, arboreal suffocation

By their own nooses

Strung up and swaying

Hang as bountiful as leaves

Off branches of twisted trees

Phantoms of the fog

Lead wanderers astray

Not to be found alive

Here, only the dead survive

In the hours of twilight

Listen for their songs

The souls crying out

From the screaming woods.