The dead lie with the wicked.
Beware of what yet is to come.
The innocent will tremble at the very word.
When the full moon rises and the wind howls
beware my child, the old man growls.
It is a gruesome beast.
It prowls the night, waiting for a feast.
Protect the young, they shall survive.
For when it comes, you will need to hide.
Remember my child, do not fret.
'It' is a word you will not forget.
Shadows seek the only way to bluster night and day.
When it is around, shadows still lure the ground.
No mercy will be given, blood will be driven.
The ground will tremble, your hands as well.
As is said as if done; the time has come.
You'll need not worry, if you're safe.
Outside however, is a different place.
It lacks the light, covering the ground in soundless night.
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