In the land of gods
and monsters, I think
you know which one
I am
I am the
subterranean and
the unwanted child
Ugly and bitter
smelling of rot
cold in the ground
I come at dusk
to spread terror,
which is my joy
baring sharp claw
long in the tooth
howling at the moon
Night breed me anew
I crave a
stronger purpose
shallow scary existing
only pacifies so long
I want more
and more than that
never satiated
waiting for the rising
of bad moon and blood tide
it hurts
a deepest pain
twitches thru me
but I hold steady
white knuckle grip
red crescents across my palms
Anticipation makes
for a fruitful reaping
soon is sowing season...
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