In a distant land, far away from here,
Where the sun is ice and the moon is all too queer,
Something stirred in the night,
Causing animals to scatter and hide in fright.
Their colorful coats flashed under the light,
Silver eyes shimmering with a cool glow.
The air changed and the wind began to blow.
All was silent and all was still,
until they came forth, emerging from the great hill.
Hunters under a black, burning sky;
One opened its maw and unleashed a horrendous cry.
The very ground trembled and froze一
Hot was the crimson rain which soaked their toes,
While others watched through frost tinted windows.
The women hushed their children, stifling their cries
As they bore out of the glass, at the gleaming red eyes.
Wild they were, shining like the sharp blade of a sword.
They moved on their own accord,
The pack prowling close.
Everyone knew by then, that these were new and old foes.
The ones on the hill, and the others beneath,
Their monstrous teeth bared and claws unsheathed.
Ready to pounce and to please,
Their fur rippled as the wind let out a sick wheeze.
Matted with the story's scars of then and before,
Creatures of the night, just old tales of folklore.
YOU ARE READING
The Poems of Magic
PoetryMagic can be many things: the last rays of sunlight calling out to the fireflies who want to catch it, the ocean, which holds more secrets than we do, and the simple love of the simplest things. Everything has magic in it, light and dark, good and e...
