Beast Man

There is an old tale, told only but a few times
Of a man that walks like the beast,
Stalks these forests each night,
With a breath that matches the artic cold,
Legs the size of grand ol' oak trees,
Murders he not for his hunger is never fed,
He comes and takes a child from each village,
Leaving behind an empty crib with a three leaf twig,
No blood trails, or footsteps can be found from his way,
Only a handful of man have seen him come,
Their eyes now forever lost, for he takes them.

(10700002)   Copyright © 01/01/2007 Ronil Tataria