The steady beat of drums flows through the wood,

Resounding back and forth, from tree to tree.

This sound of fast-approaching doom, it could

Well bring the greatest hero to his knee.

As from their gay delight the dancers turn,

The sun takes flight. A double row of flame,

A sudden flash - the trees begin to burn.

A laugh nefarious that needs no name,

Its owner swift behind, a-horse, is heard.

His minions burrow, slither, soar; from all

Directions flocking at their master's word.

And strange yet wondrous creatures swiftly fall

Down from the sky to feast their hearts' delight.

The dance goes on, with creatures of the night.