furtively whispered old forgotten words

I will not venture out alone outside - out there - where winds whisper within dead trees can you hear the chanting? ... hang on to hope... can you hear their whispers? ... hang on to hope in hopeless seasons... I wonder is this despair? for I had never known anything like it... ... and this stark darkness... yesterday she gave a scream of fury and launched herself at me. by the end of that eerie surge the grass around me was spattered with blood - and I broke down and wept - it was then that I heard them; hoarse, weak whispers coming out of the depths of the woods. who would keep vigil? there is too much to guard against and hope was never a goddess; for I have seen thee overwhelming the forests and the mountains. I\' ve lit a fire and invoked the winds to protect its light; as they chanted their ancient rituals sparks of the fire whirled up into thy darkness on eddies of warm air; an ancient house once fired quickly burns like wind she came, relentless was her hunger and I grew weaker, more lethargic as I bled she seconds me in misery no longer winds rushing in have found me dead ... and fled screaming with horror... as I reached for the dagger my spirit became complete.