Out In The Field

'Twas a night of full and dreadful dark
A rustling rose from fields untamed
The wind, so cold, did bite and hark
Through harvest yields, the creeping claimed

Arise! And cast thy weary gaze
What stirs beyond the corn’s cold door?  
A rustling ‘midst the shadowed maze
Shapes weeping, lost forevermore

Yet still they stand, though deathly still
O venture not into the blight
Some nameless terror chills the will
A dread that strips the soul of light

To seek, to find what horrors lie
Or wait till dawn's faint mercy’s stay
What cursed thing stalks ‘neath the sky?  
Why will it not be chased away?