September 21, 2010 - 4:39am — Pretzil
Once, there was an old lady.
She was a horrible witch who took in weary travelers only to suddenly devour their soul.
She would sing a haunting tune to draw their soul out...
Mr. Nightingale, Mr. Nightingale...
Where have you been?
Searching, loosing more than you gain.
Mr. Nightingale, why do you cry so?
Wandering, into the oblivion and not finding the truth.
Mr. Nightingale, your soul is not mine to take...
But I'll take it anyways.
And the traveler would try to run, but she was there, looking at him, engulfing him.
Now, his grave was very uncared for behind the broken down house, the bad spirits danced among it.
Eventually, the witch would grow hungry again, and she would sing the tune again...
Mr. Nightingale, Mr. Nightingale...
Where have you been?
Searching, loosing more than you gain.
Mr. Nightingale, why do you cry so?
Wandering, into the oblivion and not finding the truth.
Mr. Nightingale, your soul is not mine to take...
But I'll take it anyways.
