Walking in my sorrow
a shadow fell opon me
the glen was dark and hollow
I felt the presence of the Sheep
I heard it´s heavy breathing
pounding on my cold neck
a sound of nostrils seathing
I felt the presence of the Sheep

Calling too me.........waiting for blood
it´s cold wool driping darkness
I heard it´s cry of murder
waiting for my end

Stricken with my own fear
turning around slowly
I saw it´s face before me
I smellt it´s rotting flesh

Pondering my own fate
insanitty enclosing
I though I heard a whisper
from it´s putrid mouth

Yes the sheep was talking
I knelt before it´s greatness
I heard it´s piercing whispers
and this is what it said

" Mortal, you are lost
this is not your pasture
I should have smelled you coming
I should have sensed your soul

Mortal you are lucky
for in my day of weakness
I let you go now freely
but don´t you come again"

I fell into a blanck trance
and when I was awoken
I saw the sun above me
and no sign of the sheep

And that is why my friends I say
stear clear of darkness if you may
don´t anger the Sheep of Darkness
for it may be your last