Gellyo

A whisper in the night sparks my tainted delight, the wind blows in the sycamore tree the faint voice calls to me, but from where is unknown the whispers true face has never been shown, I scream into the dark abyss the whispers gone now it's that very sound I miss, I will wait by the sycamore whispering to the wind hoping for a whisper back until then I will whisper into the dark black.