The "last" Things (The "haunting") Continues....
They flee.
Those immortals, back to damnation
Until the full moon, aids again re-creation
The hordes of dog-mongrels, are pacing the earth
It happens with every eclipse, their re-birth
Beginning with claws and proceeding to fang
Expanding their faces, and noses, like chain
Their muscles twist heavy, their hair un-described
Locked in their essence, is terror denied
Look!, the coolness of fog, fingers down
Settling on dead things, all over the ground
Then piercing howls, cut the air like pure glass,
If you’re alone, then your neck hair, stands fast,
And shadows you’ll see, wherever you look,
If fear is the last thing, you thought, you’d forsook,
If something is near you, then you’d better run!
Cause the bite of the mongrel, has only begun!
Sponsored by the tapping of Sami Al-khalili
John Lovings iii Game The Haunted Poets Society by John Loving iii
Who's next?... Aleera Walters-De La Keur
Copyright © Sandra Hudson | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment