The Poems Collection

The Dead of Night

A soulless Thing is nigh upon us.

'Tis dark, malformed, grotesque, and cunning.

Its eyes – empty hollows of swarming, heaving nothings,

Empty hollows of empty shells;

And its body – like the impenetrable depths of the fathomless den

Wherein lies the Hunter, and his bow.

The witching hour has arrived.

Do you hear it?

                                          – Nay.

The hushed silence of the night

Has long been the yearnéd thing,

Said to be as natural as breathing;

Yet in the stillness stirs that sordid, egregious horror.

Dawn, mayhap, may return

Before the Hunter rises from his resting place,

And into oblivion he sends his prey.

Pray.

A/N: Hey there! This one has a much darker theme. Hope you liked it.

Good news! I've almost finished my personal story (the one you may never see), just need to write the final paragraphs, touch a couple things up, add a little more dialogue and characterisation, and then I can write something new for you guys! I still have 2 more short stories and 2 more poems, so it'll give me time to work on it. I still have to work on my English stories for HSC though, soo...yeah.

I don't actually have anything else to say, for once. So, bye!

Signing off,

Starry Roses