[Wraiths]

Slinking through the forest,
the darkness surrounding the fire,
of the torch burning bright,
the implications of a the sire,
following them into the cold night.

Leaves pushing through their hair,
they make a very greivant sight,
yet it's too dark for anyone to stare.
Come let the spirits watch, and fight,
let them guide us, for we are unfair.

Dead walk the undergrounds
There sweat seeps through the dirt
The battle screams for many rounds,
A deadly breath within the trees
Makes each of them alert.

Into the night that chokes with fingers too tight,
They're determined to conquer the unforeseen.
The death cannot take them down;
Cannot make them lost;
But will not let them leave...