The Lonely Child

The lonely child creeps amongst the woods.
Wandering and searching,
To find another,
Who she may touch with her icy palms,
Or speak to in hushed tones.

The lonely child creeps amongst the woods.
Accompanied only by her silent guardians.
Brutish beasts that had their pupilless eyes gouged out from their sockets,
Canid mongrels who still carry the ancient, primordial ooze within their jowls,
And silent pale-skinned creatures, with bones jutting from every inch of their bodies.
The monster stand with her by the forest's edge.
Their spindly, gnarled hands clasped in hers.

The lonely child creeps amongst the woods.
Silent and still as her beastly vanguard stands by her,
Their mouths shut as she produces a song from her throat.
A soft and yielding tune,
Of which the monsters are tempted to hum to, but restrain themselves.
They do not sing the song of loneliness and heartache,
As they no longer have any concept of such things.

The lonely child creeps amongst the woods.
Her only companions the creatures who lurk in the shadows of the forest,
Singing her song of loneliness and sorrow,
To a world that has long gone deaf.
To a world where only the monsters can still hear,
But have lost their very souls in the process.