• The day is dark,
    The night wind howls.
    The shadows grow taller,
    The air becomes foul.

    With the cries of each child,
    Stolen at dark.
    Blood on the ground,
    This is their mark.

    Of our fate this is next,
    A sign that it is.
    More blood will be shed,
    We shall never be free.

    To live in pleasure,
    As we once did before.
    Never were we cautious,
    Of what lived past our door.

    Slipping through the gates,
    They walked among us.
    Spinning lies to tell,
    Our friends we no longer trust.

    A curse we must live,
    An endless haunting.
    Forever a reminder,
    A perpetual taunting.