A quiet lake began to

Pulse and ripple as a cold

And bloody corpse came to

The surface slowly yet

Softly swimming to shore with

Only nine fingers and only nine

Toes but stroking to still

Land like a sleepy swan with a

Few lengthy reaches and the

Bit of looking around

And the moon has just

Enough light to show the

Reflection of a bit of spot

To growl about when the

Ghosts have summoned

You to this drop and

Really mean a lot

Once all the fresh blood

Needed to spill

Comes to clot