CRICKETS
A slow grinding hum,
From nowhere they come.
In darkness they play,
To the tune of yesterday.
The air carries thickets,
With the unfriendly sound of crickets.
Left sitting alone,
It's a way too common tone.
A trickle of sadness,
Filled with a hint of madness.
In darkness they hum in defiance,
Crickets play to the sound of silence.
Comments