Ghoul Strike

A cycle of poems «Chasing a Werewolf»

The moon hangs low, a sickly gleam
A chill wind whispers, a nightmare's dream
From crypt and tomb, they rise anew
The ghoul strike's coming, the sky turns blue

Claws extend, eyes burn with hate
A ravenous hunger, a gruesome fate
Rotting flesh, a gruesome sight
The ghoul strike's here, devour the night

The earth trembles, a guttural sound
As rotting hordes, across the ground
They scavenge and crawl, a festering tide
No soul is safe, nowhere to hide

Claws extend, eyes burn with hate
A ravenous hunger, a gruesome fate
Rotting flesh, a gruesome sight
The ghoul strike's here, devour the night

The living fear, the dead arise
A symphony of screams and cries
Their hunger insatiable, a primal need
To feast on flesh, a gruesome deed

Claws extend, eyes burn with hate
A ravenous hunger, a gruesome fate
Rotting flesh, a gruesome sight
The ghoul strike's here, devour the night

The night descends, a shroud of dread
The ghoul strike's fury, the living are dead
A chilling echo, in the silent air
The ghoul strike's over, despair is there.