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 Before the sun would rise the drifting spirits of the forest would materialize
A blood moon fills the night and cold mist drifts into sight
Howling, prowling strikes out in doom, the witching hour looms
Twisted trees weave in this place, dark shadows of an evil face

Where is a life that once filled this domain, now, overtaken by wolfsbane
Does the hour grow in power, cries of drifting goblins so insane
If I make it through this hell, I will never return, I travel beyond its pain
Werewolves, Vampires, bloodthirsty creatures haunt, life will drain

Silver bullets and crucifix will be the weapons I must affix
There is a path that leads to an open space where good does trace
As I  follow the path the evil forces grows with wrath
Growling, snarling surrounds me as I move ahead, in this place of the "walking dead"

At last a light appears and fields of refuge shimmer clear
Behind me stays my darkest fear
the forest where treachery adheres
Now I dry my troubled tears, as home draws near

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Haunted Forest