Bleakness of blight 🌚

Clandestinely amidst copses, keeping hidden out of sight

But yon big old moon is brightly beaming, masquerading daylight 

Oh how I pray to those Angels watching over us, that we will be alright

Coz there is so much living life in those trestles of tall oak trees

Whilst whispering leaves oversees

Why are we so unwelcome in these woodlands, like enemies?

Sneaking through our silence in a state of displease

Listening to the lullabies from the lazy rolling river

There are chills in our bones, that make us shiver

We are not at one with Mother nature, though she is a caregiver