Creature
Grotesque fangs
Crimson eyes
hunched over, it stares
Pounds of fur for skin
Wicked grin
on all fours, it stares
The creature, beware
The creature, it still stares
"What is it looking at?" I think.
I move to the left,
then swiftly to the right
For the creature that stares,
has its eyes on me tonight.
To scared to move
To mesmerized to look
The creature stares at me
Daring me to run.
Above, in the clouds
A flame peeks through
" Its morning time for me, and back to hell for you."
I say to the creature thats still.
A puff of smoke, and the creature is gone.
I'm standing alone
Nothing but a mirror is shown
But how could it be?
Is the creature really me?
---[ SKITZ ]--- 2008
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