The night is meek
The silence speaks
The Gates of hell squeaks
As the hounds are asleep
Tump the footfalls go
Moans and groans sounds like growls
Here they are to reign terror
At their hour given by God.
Sleek they are as they mingle with the living
Converse they do as They look for a soul for the thieving.
Beware for behind their mask, lays your reckoning
As you might discover their truth.
So laugh and cheer as the night merrys
Even though some palms are as Cold as death.
Do not wonder nor ponder what lies behind those masks
Call them friends but seek them no more when the night elapse
For they have returned to where they belong.
Those creatures that roam in the night.
