In the woods of abject horror,
Hungry little monsters play.
And strong indeed the explorer,
Who bravely doesn’t run away.
And the fighting,
And the snatching,
And the biting.
And the catching.
Hang hot in fetid, rotted air,
Oh so watchful, hopeful breath,
You best be alert, take your care,
Before you came,
You should’ve left.
-GoRhyme