Deadwood Manifestations

The deadwood stirs beneath the moon
Its branches black and bare
They twist and groan a hollow tune
Like phantoms in the air

Their whispers drift on midnight’s breath
A cold and ghastly song
And tales of sorrow, loss, and death  
Are woven faint and long

I walk alone, yet feel their eyes
The trees, so stark and still
Each shadow hides what underlies
A secret dark and chill

No stars break through the twisted boughs
No breeze can ease the night
For in this wood, the silence bows  
To voices lost from sight

With every step, the whispers rise
Till dread fills all I see
And in the deadwood's haunted guise
The dark takes hold of me