two eyes, awaiting slumber
the night falls upon all who are bound
to death
they witness a shifting individual
fitful with nightmares plaguing
their addled mind
oh what a perfect specimen
it can pass through walls
through time
through people
but always takes one at a time
too many would break its shoulders
skulking amid the dark room
(in the morning, the walls
will be pink mixed with splotches of red)
there is but one decision to be made
when?
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
