Goblins dancing in the air,
singing songs full of despair.
Shadows in the dark,
as they chant ancient spells long lost.
Tribal fires with bright blue flames,
smoke rises in the midnight sky.
Human presence, long gone.
The forest remains undisturbed.
An owl hoots, a cricket chirps.
The fire blazes from the earth,
the eerie smell of roasted flesh.
Marks on trees of battles lost,
tales of struggle told from the trails of blood.
Ye be warned of little men,
ye be warned of death where civilization ends.
