Cold autumn mourning

Featuring: Nehushtan
Grumium

Cassandra!
Lived there by herself.
No one near by.
Seven miles from town.

Lived in a house,
on a small farm,
deep in the woods,
far from anyone.

It had been two long years since he had marched off north.
Marched off to darkened lands, rivers of blood, ponds of death.

She knew in her heart that he would come home to her.
Come home and leave this damned and wretched war behind!

[Part I:]
The full moon was out,
shining its pale gloom through the darkened forest.
Cassandra sat on her porch and listened to the sounds of the night.
She sang a haunting tune that echoed deep into the foggy forest
a tune that she had often sang for her husband, long long ago.
She was lost in thought as a strange mist rolled down the path.
She lifted her head and saw a shadow in the mist,
a faceless apparition looming like a nightmare.
It drifted through the fog and took on an eerie black shape of a man.
She screamed into the night as she dropped her cup to the floor.
Terrified she ran into the house to grab the gun.
She bolted the door shut and almost fainted
as her heart nearly beat out of her chest.
But all was quite outside,
just a slight breeze moaning through the window.
Moments passed by and she began to
second-guess what she had saw.
‘Perhaps it was the shadow of a tree
or the scarecrow in the garden.’
The moonlight was shining though the window,
as a cold breeze whistled through.
Still something was out of place,
something was wrong in the air.
The room grew cold as ice and a chill of despair crept up her spine.
She stared at her trembling hands, something
was very wrong in the air.
She lifted her head and saw the dark shadow
looming behind the moonlit window.
She screamed and fired the gun.
Glass and wood exploded everywhere as the sound
of the gunshot echoed far into the desolate forest.
Shaking like a leaf, Cassandra gathered her courage to take a look.
Suddenly she caught a familiar scent in the air,
“No!!” she screamed in fear. Quickly she opened the door,
fearing the greatest fear that she could possibly think.
But there was nothing there,
just broken glass and splintered wood scattered everywhere. Shadow in the moonlight.
Faceless obscurity.

Deadly mist of darkness.
Blackened plume of misery.

Cassandra!
lived there by herself.
No one near by.
Seven miles from town.

Lived in a small house,
on a small farm,
Nestled deep in the woods,
far from anyone.

[Part II:]
Later that morning she sat on her porch,
as the rain fell from the heavens above.
Her house was so cold inside, as was her soul.
Something was still wrong with the air.
Up the trail slowly walked reverend Charles and his wife Annabel.
The reverend had his bible folded in his arm
and his head was lowered to the ground.
A moment of clarity washed over her
as she felt her heat break into a thousand pieces.
She tried to back away into the cold house,
but Annabel grabbed her trembling hands.
Cassandra began to cry out as Annabel hugged her in her arms.
Reverend Charles put his hand on her shoulder
and she fell in a heap of sorrow, and screamed to the world.

Cassandra
Cassandra
Cassandra
Cassandra