Barathrum

silence voice with whistle of the wind
through dim nocturnal, misty air
melancholic crying of the wind
full of agony and despair
those graves with those old trees near
and the silent humming in the air
weak mortals stiffen by the fear
if do they walk by night here
spirit of that place is filled with fright
come here dark beauty of the night
to the realm of the night out from the light
come here to be my bride
under the lunar silver glow
come to me and let me show