And The Storm Is Howling

And the storm is howling,
the river overflowing.

Rain drizzling down
like a fine mist,
falling through the barren treetops,
creeping through the brick walls.

And the storm is howling,
the river overflowing.

No light shining through my window,
old wood creaking
and my reflection is just a skeleton,
out of the corner of my eye.

And the storm is howling,
the river overflowing.

The old house is sighing,
all the souls moaning
as the rain whips the walls
relentlessly.

And the storm is howling,
the river overflowing.