Friday, January 5, 2018

A Gift

Out of a swamp
that thing has stumbled
into the night
that thing will mumble
words of wisdom
words of fear
what says that thing
for nothing is clear
it's filthy stinking
smelling like death
it crawls out slinking
drawing breaths
its nails are sharp
its eyes are black
its teeth are razors
there's a tail on its back
it roars and growls
it stalks and prowls
for things that hide
and things that ride
then in the jungle
this thing disappears
and in my dreams
it appears, reappears
i wake up screaming
my nightmares blue
the gift of thing
now i give to you. 

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