Thistles and thorns line the way, winding
skyward into shadows growing ever longer
as daylight fades into the darkness that
patiently waits it’s call.

Quietly walking, the hammering heart signaling
fear, panic bursting at the seams of a chest
gulping for air, stifling a scream.

The beam of a fading light wavering, searching
the shadows for glowing eyes, eyes that stare
and blink, and then....
disappear
as a twig breaks...

Turning swiftly, trying to catch the feel of
what brings the hackles to rise, finding
only still damp air.

A simple cabin, somewhere ahead, beyond
the fog that grows steadily, rising like
a specter from the tomb of earth, cold to
the touch of skin.

Listen.....hear the whispers of dark souls.
Hear the call of beast and fowl. Heed
the howling winds beyond the summit
high...

For on this night of fear and dread, of
drooling maws.....of things now dead
a scream shall fall upon the ears,
a curdling sound from now past years.

And when the moon does crest the peak,
the strong shall pounce the frail and weak.
The earth shall crawl, the ground shall shake
and fear shall come in shivering quake...