The Count VII WordPress.com site

The sun has set,
Shadows lengthen,
The wind gets cold,
Appear the denizen
Of the night,
Fill thee with fright..

The moon glows,
Clouds pass by.
Streamlet flows
Silent on the ground.
Owl swoops overhead
A field mouse will turn up dead..

Cold bites in
Mosquitoes pester
Starts to drizzle
White ants foster
Up-down spine travels a chill
Making the traveller lose all will..

Hear the lupus howl
And the silent stalk
Close up with the grizzly growl
In fear thee will baulk
And so starts the chase
As thee looks for hiding place…

Thee scream, thee shout the yell
You stumble trip and fall
The predators pass thee by, thee sigh what a close call
Though thee bleeding on the head
Thee awake on a wet bed..

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