The moon burns through the trees like firelight.
The stars are like embers in the quiet night.
Wild beasts tumble from their beds with a mighty yawn.
Dusk is to them as the coming of the dawn.
As we work our work, under the sun.
So they work their work, so take caution.
Their deeds are dark, wicked, and twisted.
They take pride in the fallen they have hunted.
Fool’s folly is the tool of their trade,
To trap a man in the trouble he has made.
So if your soul you wish to succour,
Keep to the path,
Only a fool wanders Wildernoir.