The monsters linger beneath the beds
of every slumb'ring babe.
Fangs bared,
ambitiously waiting
the children to sleep.
The ghouls slip silently into their dreams
To devour them
from the inside out.
The Cyclopes lick their jaws
and the banshees screech
their battle cries
for the feast is about to begin.
So snuggle down
and close your eyes
'less you're afraid of the dark.
For they're coming.
That's simple fact is true.
And for dinner tonight;
they are serving
you.
YOU ARE READING
My Death In Poetry
PoetryMy Death in Poetry is a collection of my poetry. These are more of my dark, "depressing" works. If you enjoy somber poetry, you'll love this book!
