Death will shake the world tonight.

Darkness creeps among the trees—

monsters lurking, hunting prey

by the stench of our disease.

You will hear the corpses fall. 

But do not fear. 

The road will go on perilously, 

threading deep into the woods. 

The clouds will overcome the moon,

in wraith-like conquest of the sky,

and you will watch the stars go out. 

But do not turn back.

You will feel the rumbling hunger 

of the graves beneath your feet,

the haunting moaning of the wind

drifting through the trees

calling for surrender. 

But do not give in.

You will come to a place so dark,

the fire of your torch will fade to ash.

The trees will gather thick and 

wrap their their roots around you,

and you will fall.

But take heart.

This world is not the end.