Do not stay idle nor linger for fear
There is great peril for those who wait here
And do not be merry, nor chortle with glee
For The Watcher at the window points his finger at thee
His face it is gaunt, flesh numb to the bone
He acts with great malice to those who stay alone
Do not stop! Dear Traveller, saddle up your horse
And be silent as you leave or be filled with remorse
Make haste and be solemn, don’t look back upon depart,
For there is blood on his hands and grief in his heart.