Piercing red eyes,
Dark as pooling blood,
Teeth so sharp,
They shine,
White,
Pale,
Even in the midnight dark.
You can smell its pungent odor,
Of rotting eggs,
And rotten pumpkins.
Eyes shine with an evil gleam,
Lips curl in a malignant grin.
And in the dark,
No light or sound.
None but the beaten,
Ragged,
Breathing of the beast
That so accompanies you,
Not a guest,
So hostile,
Sees you as a feast,
Especially to that which hasn't eaten in a week
Hungry,
Searching you with a longing of blood,
Senses it rushing, running smoothly through your veins,
Hears the beating of your heart,
Thud,
Thud,
Thump.
Eyes so heavy,
Oh so tired.
But with the beast so near,
Do you dare blink?
Rush,
A whoosh of air,
A rapid movement,
Thump,
Thud.
CRASH.
A rapid dash,
So desperate,
And it does indeed attack.
The mad lunge,
How will you die,
Carried in a hearse,
Towards an afterlife?
But are you really dead?
Or would you rather live the nightmare,
Of suffering in silence as you spend time with the beast.
The clock ticks,
The clock tocks.
Time goes by, by,
Bye.
Always waiting in suspense for the day
That the beast doth attack.
And so you wait.
How long live you?
You never know,
The suspense making the air heavy,
As you await your doom.
YOU ARE READING
Mirrors
PoetryShort poems I've made. They were made at different points in time. They are a bit of a reflection. I hope you like them.
