Fear radiates from the mists,
the haunted shroud of the mountain.
It harbors a secret, a veiled lake.
Within the murky depths of the lake,
wrapped in the shroud of mist
Lies the beastie.
It lays in the cryptic depths,
the hell of the icy deep.
For millennia it’s survived,
old as time itself.
A ghoul of the blackened waters.
It dwells restlessly,
a grotesque testament of time.
It stares blankly with ghastly eyes,
lurid, spectral eyes, eyes of a dead man.
Here in the land of monstrosities.
In the shrouded crag,
In the hidden ravine,
The land which even the fay dare not tread.
There it lives, making it’s home among the inky, blackened depths.
There it awaits it’s next meal,
There it continues to defy time.
Destined to spend eternity in the decrepit loch.
Fueled by incessant rage.

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