Strange sounds quietly etch from under places
No one ever wants to chance
Calling out softly to those who can hear them
In a repetitive wistful chant

Speaking of darkness in voices unknown
Faintly crying out to be heard
Telling sad tales to those who can hear them
Without ever saying a word

Lonely winds reverberate around misty cold
Stirring the etching of sound
Seeking the spirits of those who can hear them
Wherever they may be found

A touching of minds in wistful repetitive chants
Stirring the sound of misty cold
Quietly etching into the hearts who hear them
The sadness of their souls