A Fowl Finger

While walking in the forest night
Across a moonless bog,
I came across, in the ghostly light,
A stranger there in the fog.
He blocked my path as he approached,
His stare never leaving my eyes.
He probed my soul, and then encroached!
It caused my pulse to rise!

"You have trespassed upon my ground!
You've tainted my expanse!
Your soul to me would now be bound,
But first, I'll give you a chance!"
He put his finger to my chest,
And then he said to me,
"A riddle is to be your test,
The answer will set you free!"

"What burns like fire in darkest black
For travellers on a wayward track?
It's lust for rich and poor alike
Will grow the instant Death does strike!"

And then a sort of twisted grin
Appeared upon his face.
An evil shown from deep within,
From some corrupted place.

"Ti's Hell!", I cried, "You devilish beast!
The answer was there in your eyes!
I'll not become your bloody feast!
You've given away your disguise!"

He dropped his head, and then he cursed,
And changed back into a fiend.
To answer his riddle, I'd been the first.
My slate had just been cleaned.
He wheeled about and did not linger.
He had just lost the fight.
He bid farewell with a bony finger,
And disappeared into the night.