Originally Posted by Trollheart

Song 3

The witching hour draws near, there is a thing not at all good skulking out of the light.
Beneath the light of Earth's only satellite
A vision comes to your eyes that almost kills you on the spot.
You attempt to attract attention by yelling loudly
But extreme fear swallows up the sound before it can be birthed in your throat
You begin to feel very cold and still
Contemplating the very face of grotesquerie you cannot move.