As the dew covers the woods

the filthy trolls wake up to a new night.

Crawling out to their caverns

impossible to spot for an untrained eye.

Taking their first deep breaths

in their swamp of unpleasantness.

Terrifying the wood's inhabitants

with howls of lunar ecstasy.



Watchmen of the wild.

Protectors of solitude.

With malice they guard

the vast and primeval forest.



Stinking goblinfeet stamp onwards

through the sleeping forest.

Their treacherous black eyes

spy into the peaceful night.

The hunted innocent victims

try to escape but fail.

The beasts knows of every corner

up the hills and down the dales.