In lands where whispers turn to tales,
A beast of lore, both grim and grand,
A fusion of soul and flesh prevails,
An ultimate being, eerie and bland.

It roams the barren, wild expanse,
With no clear aim or traced path trod,
In the dead of night, it takes its chance,
To lure with screams both sharp and odd.

Hearken! The shrill cries pierce the night,
A siren's call to those who dare,
It draws the curious into its plight,
In wastelands empty, stark, and bare.

With every step, it weaves a spell,
Of terror mixed with an eerie charm,
In this world where shadowed spirits dwell,
The beast wanders, causing alarm.

So mind the tales of the wandering ghoul,
That haunts the plains with mournful cry,
In the realm of myth, it plays its role,
Under the watch of the moonlit sky.