Don't turn around, don't try to run
For something evil this way comes
A beast with teeth like sticks and stones
That grind your flesh and crush your bones
Eyes that gleam with evil light
And blaze like fires in the night
Breath like rotting meat so foul
A chilling scream, bloodcurdling howl
Claws to rip and disembowel
He'll swoop down on you like an owl

There's nothing left for you to do
But pray and hope the Gods hear you
This frighting beast, approaching still
Is near impossible to kill
You'll wish you never had been born
When you're caught up with by the SPAWN

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Scarlatan, in the year 251 AF.