One blustery night while I stood on my stoop,
I looked at the dark forest back behind the lonely chicken coop,
And from its deep depths I heard a strange sound,
Perhaps one of a creature that has yet to be found.

My insatiable curiosity overthrew my fear,
And against my will, my feet drew me near,
Closer and closer toward the ominous gloom,
That seemed to whisper to me of my impending doom.

I found myself standing upon the dark forest path,
Completely unaware of the beast within’s boiling wrath,
For all was forgotten in the midst of the tempest that blew,
Obliterating all the sense of direction that I ever knew.

I wandered lost among the gnarled and knotted vines,
Unable to see anything except the tree trunks’ ghostly outlines,
And in despair, I thought of the warm hearth awaiting me,
Longing to hear the cheerful whistling of my steaming *** of tea.

But my pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a footfall,
And a cold hand clamped over my mouth before I could call,
Its talons pressed deep into my neck, and my heart began to pound,
The fatal blow came, and my body slipped limp to the ground...