La Llarona Weeps

[Spoken] In the dead of night, when the moon hangs low, Whispers in the darkness begin to grow. A tale of sorrow, a specter's plight, Listen closely to the chilling night. [Spoken] La Llorona, they call her name, A figure cloaked in sorrow and shame. Her wails, like knives, pierce the air, A haunting melody of despair. [Spoken] Born of love turned to bitter hate, Her soul now bound by a cursed fate. She roams the rivers, her cries a lament, A warning to those who dare to dissent. [Spoken] They say she walks when the hour is late, Seeking redemption, but finding only hate. Her eyes, pools of darkness, devoid of grace, A spectral figure in a ghostly embrace. [Spoken] Children huddle, fear in their eyes, As La Llorona's mournful cries rise. She searches, forever searching in vain, For the children lost, forever stained. [Spoken] Beware the river's murky flow, For La Llorona's curse will follow. A tale of horror, a legend of dread, In the shadows, she waits, her presence spread. So heed this warning, lest you stray, From the path where darkness holds sway. For La Llorona, with her sorrowful song, Will haunt your dreams, all night long. [Wail] aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh