Dead Man's Marsh
Slimy things and smelly scents,
creeped out the swampy land
We heard a cry,
Far in the sky,
It shook our dwarven band,
Our feet drew close,
we did repose,
'what was that awful sound?',
a sudden wind,
had made us sprint,
from fear to be spellbound,
And the bog,
from worm till frog,
held still each wriggling limb,
and the dead,
called out in dread,
and light was forced to dim,
a flying shade,
called forth to aid,
the dark lord veiled in black,
very frightened,
our faces whitened,
we did not dare look back,
the noise came near,
we thought in fear,
'did something just descend?'
but we were fast,
and found at last,
the dead men's marsh's end.
