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Rated: E · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #2164922
Don't dare read.
Don't dare scream
Don't dare breathe
Don't dare sneeze
He's coming
Don't dare cry
Or blink or sigh
You ask why
He's coming
Shadowed hills and blackened bells
Within my heart the clangs do swell
And scarf around my paling neck
Eyes open and closed see ashy black
I can sense his every move
As if routine has carved its groove
My God, my God, he's coming!
His heart beats with a maddening sound
Spreading his drool and blood around
Like some nightmarish, blackened hound
Making every fog a cloud
So I can't touch or see around
Or even think of how to get out!
His howl tells me he's coming!
The dampness squirms inside my lungs
As my hands are rightfully wrung
My throat raw with far past screaming
I convince myself I must be dreaming
For if I don't wake where I lie
Then this hour I'm sure I'll die!
Don't tell me he's not coming!
In fear I slowly cross my chest
Thinking it's my final breath
Being drowned in pools of rank and sour
Claiming this; my final hour
There's one thing that I must do
The battle between us must ensue
I don't care if he's coming!
I parry, dodge the best I can
Knowing consequences if I ran
He had his might, but I had wit
Soon his eyes glistened in tear-falling slits
I knew the look and let him be
Only then did I dare to breathe
He went!
And now most of you might be asking
And your eyes are full of fear through clapping
What beast did you have to fight
A vampire or a metaphor of night?
Death or something in between?
Why couldn't yell for help or scream?
Am I daft or crazy or both?
It's the answer you want most
Now before you feel a sense of misgiving
Just be glad that I got out living
Because the beast that was so forgiving?
The war is with my aunt every Thanksgiving!



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