Epiphany of the Forsaken

The shadows, they call to me
Yet comfort is not my epiphany
Isolated inside the desolate Woods
Is where I find myself, as I should
Howls of melancholy harmony
No longer follow the ghoul that is me

Instead haunted lonesome calls of dread
Radiate throughout these veins as they're bled
Mourning that which shall not change
It chares my spirit engulfed yet caged
A whisper so faintly cursed is hesitant and vulgar
For I know the doubt of darkness lingers

The leaves, they wither with mockery
Just as I have grown to live so seldomly
This soul of mine has blackened hard
For my psyche has a sulphurous scar
The moonlit memories torment so
I plead for death so they shall go

A silhouette of silence plaques this anima
Yet this phantom of solitude is not a phenomena
But instead the dreary fate of a wolf alone
Condemned amidst her heart of stone
Tragedy befits a quivering bitch of night
Forever dwelling inside the ambiance of moonlight