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The fog creeps swiftly in over the moors

Lit by the fire's light, my lonely form

I feel there's something strange about this place

Something I cannot understand, conceptualise nor face

There is a chill on the wind each night

One that brings with it terror and fright

A dread, inside an itching fear

That something I cannot see draws ever near

And now across the land the shadows bleed

I feel I’m not alone, I hear whispers in the trees

I cannot overcome the sensation in my heart

I know that something watches, something in the dark

An unhallowed call echoes through the dale

Like the howling of the wind in a fierce gale

Fingers cold as death run down my spine

I hear an unknown tongue speak a rhyme

It reveals to me its form as it comes

My heart beats ever faster like the pounding of a drum

Passing through the trees without a sound

Gliding weightlessly over the ground

Shackled by the wrists, it drags its chains

Dressed in robes tattered by their age

Its face obscured by funerary veil

With hands so skeletal and pale

Its hollow voice rings deeper than the sea

As it speaks in concealed words to me

In a language older than the trees

Carried by the autumnal breeze

“May God protect me!” I say

As I kneel in the dirt and pray

But there is no answer from above

As upon me the wretched figure comes

Its frozen grasp finds my throat

And on my final words I choke

My pleas of mercy are drowned

And thus no salvation is found

The night winds pass over me

I'm dying, yet the light I cannot see

What horrid fate has come to me?

A terror that surely cannot be!