The 'Bleak Weald', 'Dusk-Woods', 'Grove of Screeching Wights'—
A land of many names and many routes.
While veiled in gloom and dusk, with looming heights,
It ***** the ashen tears through creeping roots.

The grasping claws of forests, seeking moon,
Would turn around at slightest sound to pierce
The hearts; for those who dare disturb are hewn
And strewn apart for augurs' sights to pierce.

The pilgrim hastens into darkened woods
And stumbles fast through death, awaiting prey.
From satchel worn, returns the stolen goods
To woods betrayed—the moonlight, craved and prayed.

Thus, 'Bleak Weald', 'Dusk-Woods', 'Grove of Screeching Wights'
Became the Twilight Woods of sage and sights.