Friday, June 5, 2009

Creature of the Night



Creature Of The Night


the stench of its breath -
the rise of its chest,
to think this thing was once a man.
the filth of its hair
the cold lifeless stare
it knows not what its become.

it stalks the night -
invoking fright,
its morals are no longer.
It's victims flee,
it follows with speed,
to take what makes it stronger.

It's looks always deceive,
"oh, wont you follow me?"
But behind the mask
lies the darkest of dark.

When the dawn aproaches
it quickly departs,
into a tomb with roaches -
to rest, it's frozen heart . . .



Credit for this wonderful work goes to Diana Mitic.
Copywright ©2009 BETCH.

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