The Ghost and his soul

Nowhere, a place to live a life so full of destruction that time never seems to take place
a bleaching of disaster reaches out of the hole of hell to seize any frightful body
a whispering ghost sits upon a rotted out log stump to tell a tale never told before
the beast was the soul of the darkened phantom that roved the area in hate
upon a midmorning rain a beast no more mere than the size of a 2000 pound bolder prowled
to feast was his mind set and to another animal a battle of might’s that can scream of blood
striding at six feet with long dry stiff hair saturated in pride of his prays blood
a main so laid out of perfection for a feeling from a looker standing behind away from death
eyes so filled with flames being able to make any normal filled creature faint of fright
time strolled on while this evil beast lurked and tamed his mind full of desirable thoughts
a forest all still while this time moved on and all around nothing lived as use to
greed of pride tempted this evil beast so unbearably often his fall could become reality
quite all around while the beast roamed his territory by choosing victims for their blood
the scent on tree bases and earth\'s crust soaked in his prays gore for victory
his blood never shed touching air but when the forest all became one against him
the whisper of fate has neared while ending the fright from everyone’s wits
alone no one stands to be fearless and earth was lost deadening their dreadful spirit’s
to care never about life on account of being annihilated by his fellow tribes and the wilderness