Come naught still woods with fear,
Tranquil silence ne'er golden here.
When the bane moon be full,
Ye be dreading the pull
Whispering of the beast,
On thine bones will feast.
Come ne'er at full orb of moon,
Hearken her famished wolf croon.
Thine bones a midnight snack.
Slinking in eerie shadows black.
None in safe-harbor for she'll come,
Relishing thrills of the chase please run.
Gluttoning on bloody gore,
Bequeathed sharp talons score.
A wolf’s nature eagerly succumbs,
Savoring dire heart drums.
She gleans with a grisly grin,
Reveling the wicked carnage sin
A gory disemboweled thrill
Of the frenzied brutal kill.
So proceed before me, if ye dare,
I be ravenously awaiting there.