The Dark Host

by Richard H. Fay

Creatures of darkness roam this troubled night,
Drifting on the wind like an ebon mist.
Strange beings of shadow who shun the light
Gather in the hills for their savage tryst.

Whirring wings beat in the deepening gloom
As wicked sprites cavort atop the tor.
Wayward mortals face a terrible doom,
Joining the heinous host that they abhor.

Stolen children and lost souls swell the ranks
Of that wretchedly detestable horde.
A tithe of human flesh gives bloody thanks
To their dark and diabolical lord.

The unsanctified dead spread suffering
Until dawn’s first glimmer drives them away.
No earthly force can stop their wandering;
The host is vanquished by the break of day.