Who haunts the darkened woodlands?
What moans my name at night?
Why does it try to lure me
Beyond the walls of light?

How does it know my failings?
And all the wrong I've done?
Should I meekly follow?
Or should I bravely run?

Sometimes it sounds like Mother
Dead many years ago
Sometimes it's little brother
Who's buried in the snow

Voices calling, whisp'ring!
In dark corners do they stand
And ever bid me join them
In their eerie shadow-land

No! I will not answer
Though they plead and call my name
By the rotting staircase
By the broken window-pane

They wait! I will not answer
Yet they call and make their plea
From way down in the valley
By the black Acacia tree
I've left them where I killed them
And that has set me free