An angry night; the shadows sigh
and softly, softly, patter by.
Alone, awake, the nameless dread
begins to stalk the waiting dead.

"Closer, closer," this the crow
that seems to echo from below.
The wind begins its mournful song
as one more shadow joins the throng.

The coppery air grows thicker still.
This scent of doom that breaks the will
now wafts through every hiding place
and throws all prey into a race.

"Closer, closer," comes the crow
from eager fangs with an ichorous flow.
And ivory claws tap out a beat
for trembling hearts that wait to meet.

A sound cuts through the midnight air
that brings the bravest to despair.
A gurgling cry, a startled shout,
and one more candle sputters out.

"Closer, closer," rings the crow
as one more number swells the toll.
The blackened sky begins to weep
for those sent to an endless sleep.

A crack of thunder heralds woe;
another meets the raging foe.
No sound to make, save for a sigh
before another life goes by.

"Closer, closer," now the crow
no longer comes from just below.
The darkening night starts to resound
with heavy footfalls on the ground.

The malign tread draws closer still
and brings with it a horrid thrill.
The clack of claws is next to start;
and sound that freezes up your heart.

"Closer, closer," this the crow
from just behind; you turned too slow.
A glimpse you caught before it spoke,
and smote you with its killing stroke.