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Poem

In the darkest hour of night it stirs
The thing in the shadows . . . it twitches
And its million eyes snap open . . . it’s awake
The creature, it hungers
And it moves for it must satisfy that hunger
Ten billion arms drag it across the slick ground
Its many lips smack and drool with anticipation
The beast slides through sewers and into the streets
With it comes the silent and ghostly fog
They call it
“The Death Mist”
It seeks to claim us all
Yes
Even you
And him too
And it will
Even should we be wary and watchful of its myriad tendrils
It will
The creature will devour us all
No matter how strong you feel
No matter how weak we are
It does not care for your skin colour
No, just the taste of your sweet meat
And it comes for you even as we speak
It searches for you
It hunts you
So beware my friend
Beware
Whoever said love was a cute little cupid
Was a fool
Love
Is a many fanged monster
And it eats

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