The Harvester

When midnight comes and silence spreads,

It rises from where fear treads.

No eyes, no voice—just a twisted grin,

It draws you close, drags you in.

--

Its touch is ice that seeps through bone,

Feeding on the dread you've never shown.

You feel your mind begin to fray,

As it tears your will away.

--

You reach to scream, but your breath is gone,

It devours slow, inch by drawn-out inch.

No life remains, yet death won't claim,

You linger there, just a husk in its flame.

--

When it leaves, you're hollow, spent,

A shadow consumed in the dark it sent.

The Hunger moves on, fades out of sight,

Leaving behind one more lost to the night.