Monstrous Tale

A monster among strained souls
Far beyond, the moon’s horizon,
Yet, illuminated is the sinister
Orchestrated by this beast,
Stretching it’s grasp over the land,
Word of this growling shadow
Quickly pervades the glooming ruins,
Stricken, with fear amongst dying light,
Huddled together in muffled breaths
As slow, thunderous steps
Crack the floor above the frightened,
Pulsing through the solemn echoes
Of shaking whimpers, the monster,
Claims its victims, shredding existence
In the embers of a smoldering night,
Far into the bleak stripped town, lies
What all dread, a crushing loss
Haunting the endings hanging by string,
While scraps of a pendulum, decays
Slowly in it’s pit, beckoning for light
To flush out the horror residing
In the deep nightshade of my mind, Taking a sip, from the brimming cup,
Aiding me in my transmogrification
Into what has terrorized, this empty village,
Into what has bled fear, in cold eyes
Resting below my growling thunder.

©DorianPoe 2015

The Nurtured Monster

Stab upon the weak,
Motionless in dirt
As their blood slithers
Around the anthill,
Following the path of the killer
Staining the trail of breadcrumbs,
Charming the blood snake
Into the grave,
He smiles at the grizzly sight
Finding his lullaby,
He has satisfied his lust for death
Between meals of the glutton,
As the parasites eat away
At the fragment of sanity,
Making his craving insatiable,
It claws at his chest
Ripping him from the inside
He feeds the monster living inside him,
Losing chunks of himself
Sacrificing it down to his fevered seed,
Sprouting throughout him,
Taking control
Never letting go of the wheel,
Fully immersed in the lunacy
Of the poison he ingested,
Jekyll, no more,
He lives in the metamorphoses
That he subjected himself to,
Death is his love,
Death is his drug,
Death, is his beginning,
And it needs to be his end,
A sliver of what was
Climbs its way out of shrouded villainy
To stab weak