Day 29 of 30 Days of Poetry

Across the fields they fly,
Fleet shadow wraiths unseen
By stolid human eye.
Yet keener souls divine:
Dogs bark a herald cry
Then cower with a whine.
Foul spirits of the night
Round my lost soul entwine,
All summoned to my plight.
The candle flame burns lean,
Its feeble dying light
Faint hope to stand between.
One thought on “Rising Dark”