Gothic Stroll

Walking along the coarse cobbled street, a murmur arises from under my feet and sends a stiff chill through my bones Spinning in place from what I mistook, I am certain now it certainly looked that my right shoe complained of the stones This covering shaped to cover my foot is spitting and hissing and covered in soot telling me please go away But I knowing better, this foe made of leather must have nowhere else it can stay With stealth and great guile I make shore in a mile, kicking up sand as I flee With a grunt and a throw, I clutch and let go til that shoe is submerged undersea Later that night, full moon locked in flight I awoke with a scream of indemnity The shoe had returned and quickly I learned, containing a pedal extremity