by Ben Szwediuk

Beneath the bed,
in the best traditions of ghouls,
Artress, bastard child of Osiris,
lurks panther hunched,
bedecked with silent,devilish grin.
Drawn quick and driven feverish
by dark sweat of human loneliness.

He pounces as lights are dimmed,
razor teeth in glimmered moonlight.
He coils lover tight ‘round unprotesting vessels.
As they acquiesce to grief, the demon feasts.

Click here to post comments

Join in and write your own page! It's easy to do. How? Simply click here to return to Submit a Poem.


Search Here for Poetry

Click here if you love us! Follow Me on Pinterest