Whistling of a Wendigo

Whistling of the wendigo
Sends chills
Into children’s hearts,
Into men’s hearts,
Into giants of hearts.

Courage is lacking
Against such gross scene,
With flesh falling to pieces
And a grin
Plastered to a broken frame.

Horns pierce the sky in arrogance,
Spite against the heaven.
The calls of hounds and heathens
Sounds out in a uniting fury,
Following in the footsteps
Of the wendigo.

Blood eyes lit in a ghastly glow
Mark the night, appearing in
The corner of a coward’s sight,
Of a modest man’s sight,
Of the arrogant’s sight.

Nothing of these men last
‘Til the morning’s light.
All disappears into
The insatiable stomach
Of the ravenous wendigo.

Forever starving,
Forever gluttonous
And crunching on bones,
Yet never to be satisfied,
The wendigo whistles in the dark.

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