Meraki

While Mortals Rest

Pleasing to the eye;
Expression carefully neutral,
Personality
Shrouded in mystery.
He lies
Most days
Within society;
Everyone too busy
To look into his story
And see in it
The moon like holes.
His friends, of two circles
Never intersect
One of them; normal
The other; just like him
Joined around a secret.

Today is theirs.

The pain is unbearable;
But the intoxicating power
Is no match.
They roam
In the darkness
Deep within that forest
No one dares to look at
Heavy feet
Crunching to dust
the leaves that dare to cross their hungry path;
The light reflects off
sharp points bared as low, dangerous snarls are heard;
Eyes glowing through the gaps among the bushes;
Townsfolk passing by
Admire the eyes of deer and elk
Choosing ignorance over acceptance
They celebrate their 'Day of Death'
Every month
No one knows of its origin
But they dance around their bonfires
Singing about a furry beast
That terrorized the past;
Little do they know,
The stories are real.

The very beasts
Look upon them now
Silent, as they wait
For the offerings to be laid.

While mortals rest
They rule
Under moonlit skies
They battle for dignity
Their rival packs
Teeth snapping
Breaking flesh and bone
The echoes borne
By the dense foliage.

When morn arrives
Not a single trace;
Of what that midnight howl
Might have been,
As heard on this night
Every month
Without fail.

Only scarred trees
And a lingering metallic smell
Are to be found.

Any comments? Good/bad?
xx