The demons hunt throughout the glade, Afraid to cross the barricade Whose rusty wire and rotting wood Protect our rural neighborhood
Beside the fence, there lies a peach Its tasty flesh just out of reach Unmindful of the consequence, A hungry child slips through the fence
A shadow strikes without a sound And drags its victim underground The child inhales a final breath, Then bears a fate much worse than death
His bones dissolve, his mind descends, His muscles rot, his spirit bends His heart is stripped of hope and faith His blackened core becomes the Wraith
At night, we hear his piercing cries - A tortured soul that never dies He prowls the glade in search of prey Enslaving those that go astray
With fearful hearts, our town laments The haunting loss of innocence Our only means of self-defense Remains the old, decrepit fence