It is a trifling spirit and nothing more
that wails across the stones and valley.
It is inconsequential.
it screams and lies without a breath.

I saw it this evening. It spoke to me
with harsh tones and chattering teeth
but I was not one to listen to the Dead.

It gnashed it’s gnarled maw and spat
and sputtered but I would hear no more.
It squealed and boiled over but I
was in no heart to be offended.

I climbed the stones and out
of the valley, and I stood and watched
for just a moment, before I left
that poor, dead trifling spirit
to wailing, and nothing more.


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