An ominous growl, that’s the pit of the beast,
Never can he be tamed, nor harnessed or leashed,
Pay no attention to his low raunchy grumble,
He’s coming for you, and he leaps when you stumble,
Skinny his fingers, they’re rotten and grim,
When the darkness consumes, you’ll know it’s him.
He plucks you like harvest, his personal crop,
Feeds on our screams, for yours he won’t stop,
In the darkness he lerks, while on others he feasts,
And when it’s your turn…
There’s no escaping this beast.