It Feeds

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What waits in the deep

And hides behind shadows gate?

 

It feeds on sweet fear

And secrets hidden within.

 

What moves in the dark,

Formless and ethereal?

 

It howls with hunger

Mindful of the burning sun.

 

It waits for the dusk

To hunt at times in between.

 

Beware the crevasse

And ancient hollow caverns.

 

It strikes at the height of fear.

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