Poem 1

In darkness shifting, lights fitful gleam,
cold wind gathers, slicing through bone,
as if shadow flitting, some unholy dream,
from o'er pale distance, comes riding alone.

Whole dread made life, atop a steed of fire,
gaunt hands clutching reins, brittle'd by time,
Behold a head horned, framing eyes most dire,
A miasma of death follows, reeking of lime.

Woe to those unlucky, those unfortunate few,
travellers, merchants, and the victims of fate,
sundry all who cross paths, the many you slew,
forms shrunken and shrivelled, their souls you ate.

Now from out the forest, defiant cries can be heard,
they have gathered together, courage sorely met,
"Slay the beast!" o'er town to hamlet came the word,
And gather they have, on their numbers they bet.

Yet the figure reacts not, a chill blot on the land,
shadows gather and swirl about, a murder of crows,
the attackers pause, weapons slide from slacken'd hand,
while laughter, dark and empty, on a foetid wind blows.

At once the many seem few, while legion the one,
cries and pleading erupt, darkness ripples and shrieks,
bolts of night pierce chest, as one they turn to run,
yet shadow is merciless, for living warmth it seeks.

Now the fields are silent, still is the cold earth,
the graves are all empty, for of bodies there are none,
simply shrunken dark forms, like men as still birth,
of the figure there is no sign, his work swiftly done.

So heed these words dear traveller, whyever you roam,
for darkness is coming, treasure each and every breath,
Carry you your love swiftly, and make fast your home,
For 'neath pale moon's light steps an Angel of Death.


.....

silly thing =)
<3