Dark Moor

Legends always say
The dark one makes his play
With uncautious men
Lie in his name
From inner egypt came
Don't fear his word
Don't go to his den
The strange dark one to whom the fellahs bowed
Silent and lean cryptically proud
Worming into your mind
Driver you mad
Like the snake which can find
What is bad
Biting with sharp teeth
Your frail reason
Scratching in your mind beneath
Frantic crowds are under his commands