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Rated: E · Poetry · Folklore · #1912203
This is a poem that I came up with. Enjoy =D
A willow stands tall and alone

Upon a hill hiding the bone

The Keeper protects the secret here

He knows who and what you fear

He will find you, if he wants

Something from you, that's why it hunts.

Without the willow he will die

But the willow stands till the end is nigh.



No one knows where it stands

Except for a couple, of small bands

They live near the hill of dread

Guarding people from the dead.



The Keeper kills them one by one

Until the deed is all done

And the sun shall fall to moon

All are gone before high noon.



No one left, but the kings

And the evil the keeper brings.



This will happen in while

Once the hill, has moved a mile.



So do not fear, you are safe

But you should practice to strafe
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