The Night Hounds


There’s a lonely moor
Where the icy winds cut sharper than steel
And a circle of stone
Rising high on a hill above the desolate fields

That is where they make their home

For uncounted years
They’ve watched over the land with their tireless eyes
Striking hearts with fear
At the sound of their baneful and merciless cries

Six great dogs made of shadows
Swift and silent as they run
Once they catch your scent
You’ll wish that you had never come

Oh, oh beware the night hounds
For they will hunt you down
Stay far away from where they prowl
It’s marked forbidden ground

Oh the legends tell
Of a wonderous wealth buried under the earth
Where the spirits dwell
But the mystery remains protected and undisturbed

Many souls have sought their fortunes
Tempted by the voice of greed
All have met their end among that foul and marshy heath


(c) 2019 Gavin Goszka

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