Vincent Vinistarll

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Whispers Of The Night

'the birds move in disarray, from
the wind's turgid chase,
the zephyr wind blossoms buried.
No air! Its dawn!
Strange?
NO!
This night isn't friendly,
the sky has worn a black gown,
its time to mourn the earth.
Death walking within its hunting prowess,
if it touches you, You obey.
Half moon bleeds to death.
Curs'd stars falling like a drizzling rain
death is everyone's friend,
ghoulish shadows standing close
waiting for the order of king death
to pass its judgement,
to whom it may concern.



Whinning and cooing indistinct,
what happened there?
Maybe the first death has taken place.
Owls flapp'd their wings of joy
feasting on sudden prey of the night.
Darkness cascades the mountains
curs'd day, pls die for the birth of another day.
Thunderstorm runs the veins of the sky,
drizzling blood rather than rainfall.




Morning shall come and the victory of the night must be certain...

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