Transforming Poetry

When the fox comes

There's a serial killer who visits
My house in the dead of night.
Attacking my sisters together,
Causing them terror and fright.

He kills them mercilessly,
Taking them one by one,
He'll rip the head off the oldest.
Tear the skin off of some.

I run out to stop him each time,
And he scarpers from me in fear,
Then I desperatly try to find,
Where my sisters are hiding near.

One lies under a tree,
Quiet without complaint,
I carry her into the house,
Lay her down before I feel faint.

Only then do I notice the blood,
See too many marks in her flesh,
Her breathing is shallow and hard,
Then I watch her take her last breath.

Spurred on to save the others,
I venture back into the cold,
In hope that some of them are,
Hiding safe, just like they were told.

One of my sisters lies still,
The inside parts are spread out,
Though it hurts, I leave her there,
There's nothing I can do for her now.

Another sits quiet in a puddle,
I can see her breathing still,
I crawl forward to pick her up,
Her closed eyes don't see me until,

I put my hands around her,
And she screams in terror and pain.
As frantically try to calm her,
Telling her it's all ok.

I take her inside aswell,
And put her safe in a room,
All on her own where she sits,
Hoping I'll be back soon.

Another hides under a wall,
And I collect her without trouble,
Walking into the house,
To find my sisters had already doubled.

One had crept in the open door,
While I was out looking for others,
And now sat by the wall simply staring,
Wishing for comfort from mother.

I ventured out once again,
I still had two to find,
But no matter how hard I looked,
I couldn't find them outside.

Finally I found a small spot,
So narrow and hard to see,
Where two of my sisters had hidden,
Waiting and praying for me.

One seemed fine as I took her,
Into the warm safe room,
But the other was covered in blood,
Like she was already in her tomb.

I picked her up all the same,
And carried her under my arm,
Trying hard not to hear her whimper,
Trying so hard to stay calm.

I took her into the kitchen,
Where my other sister lay dead,
And set to work cleaning her wounds,
Tried to wash away all the red.

Her skin had been ripped from her back,
Her hair pulled out in clumps,
Under her arm, a bite mark,
To my throat there came a lump.

I applied antiseptic fluid,
In the hope it would stop infection,
And bandaged her up so much,
She looked like an ancient egyptian.

Then I took her poor dead sister,
And carried her out of the house,
Lay her down with the other dead body,
On the grass, or thereabouts.

I returned to the sisters still living,
Five of them to be exact,
Gave them food and water and comfort,
Knowing the ordeal had an impact.

Then I kissed each one goodnight,
And tried to sleep some more,
Knowing that he would return,
To torture us just like before.