The moon lights up the dark woods.

The witches gather here once every year.

They speak of spells and magic things.

All chanting standing in a fire ring.

Many have grown far to old and need the soul of a child to once again be whole.

Villages tell stories and lore of this time of year.

All warned to keep there Children inside and near.

Some claim to have seen the fire ring and hear them chant and sing of strange lullabys and things.

Children disappearing from their beds at night.

Doors once barred, open wide.

Children seem to rise and walk the moonlight night, following the sounds with no fright.

Witches wait and gather around, spell books and brooms litter the ground.

Their eery laughter echos through the night.

They cackle soon the children will be here.

The children wander near.

One by one the witches will turn.

The souls of youth sucked from the young.

Their shriveled bodies burn in the fire ring.

The witches dance in circles and sing.

Keep your little ones at your side on this night each year, there's much to fear.

For if your Children hear the witches lullaby they're sure to die.

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