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.