The Wendigo
The wendigo moves through the forests of night,
Through haunts of shadows and dreams;
Through dark valleys and past frozen rivers and streams
Where it can be seen in the faint moonlight
By the unlucky and the doomed and the damned.
For it feeds on the souls, so old legends have said,
Of the tormented, the lost and misled
In the cold mists of this far northern land.
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