The Thing That Dances

The wind doth howl, the night is long
A shadow stirs, a twisted song
In hollow fields, where none may tread
A shape doth dance amongst the dead

Its limbs are thin, its form unclear
It moves with grace that none draw near
No voice it hath, nor breath, nor cry
Yet still it weaves beneath the sky

The moon doth weep, the stars grow cold
As ancient steps and tales unfold
For in the dark, beyond the eye
It twirls and turns, though none know why

What doom it brings, what curse it bears
Is hid beneath the midnight airs
Yet on it moves, with ghastly cheer
A dance of death that draws thee near

O wander not, where shadows creep
For in its wake, the earth doth weep
And those who see its maddened gait  
Shall never pass the graveyard gate