Mark Matthews Poet Free verse

Ticking of the Clock

The feeling grows
as time tick on,
the craving for flesh
is evermore strong.

My brain runs
through darkness
as the bloodlust strengthens
and forevermore builds.

I remember 
the warmth of blood
running down my neck,
encrusting on my chest.
It drives me
into a frenzied state,
and (quoting the raven)
nevermore will it leave me be.

I will hunt
when the call comes,
with no prejudices
I stalk my prey,
stealth fully moving,
         closing in
and evermore potent in mobility.

With swiftness unparalleled
I tear through
   the flesh of my victim,
blood flies
       like it was spurted
from a fountain
to nevermore flow within.

Before my eyes
a crimson wave crashes
as shiver shoot through my body
and a blissful feeling takes over.
The orgasmic blast
    forevermore repeats....
with every drop of blood.

So, if in the night
you hear a howl
   stay within.... safety,
     else wise you will be mine,
       existing nevermore....
         as assuredly as I will hunt forevermore....
           feeling blissful evermore....
                                         evermore....
                                           evermore....

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