When the sun descends
The crescent arrives
The beasts stir
And evil thrives.
The stars are false
Filled with lies
Shining gleaming.
The truth they hide.
The wolves howl
The creatures creep
Grotesque beings,
venturing deep.
The monsters swipe
And wound the weak
Bodies in blood
Piled in heaps.
Torn apart
Limb by limb
Murderous looks
Beautiful sins.
Tears cascade
The world bleeds
Oceans roar
As beasts, they feed.
The clouds, they cry
Thunder booms
Welcome to life, your hell
Your doom
When the sun descends
And the crescent arrives.
Hell awakes.
The wicked arise.
Bodies swallowed
Hearts ripped out
Cries of anguish
scream and shouts.
Dead become living
The living die.
The sea boils
The skies cry
The trees are whisked
Blown like dust.
Silent prayers,
Wishing for dusk.
When the sun descends
And the crescent arrives.
Run away
If you cherish your life.
YOU ARE READING
She is a Happy Person.
PoetryAn ironic set of poems compared to the title. Please vote and do let me know how they are :3 Highest Rating ever gotten #138 in poetry 18/9/15
