Silver plated guitars string the notes away, under the sun they play and play.
The night becomes them, the fires start, the trees glow with embers spark.
The wet dew resides and the forest grows silent, except the merry children all is quiet.
The moon shines through the trees, the soft silver light puts the wise at ease.
They too join the childrens' glee, light footed and ever dancing happily.
Off in the distance danger lurks, watching and waiting with an evil smurk.
The night grows colder and sleep approaches, still waiting patiently evil encroaches.
The children slip off to sleep unaware, as the wolf comes on the prowl teeth bare.
The Elders still awake converse by the fire, unaware of the evil about to transpire.
Quickly the wolf attacks fierce, blood pours from a man skin pierced.
Screams ring from man in pain, quick spear thrusting, the evil wolf is slain.
The chaos ceases, an evil chorus, a dark event in the Peaceful forest.
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