I n - t h e - N i g h t

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In the night, white frights

coil, ready to spring.

A fresh cavalry of evil, and

unstoppable.

A rotting branch, come from

nothing, to catch the stench, and

tell the story of the demon army

once resting ‘neath its origin.

The prey tends to be unwary,

not ready, as hell sinks its teeth

in binding grip, and all hope of rescue is

lost.

And still, lying alone,

lost,

where each hour is an ache

of fresh suffering,

brings the mind to think

of things one does not usually reason.

Lying, watching the stars, so

tantalizingly close, and yet so unreachable.

Behind each star, there is

a mystery, a vague sense of the improbable.

Each unknown is connected, strung

across the sky, and in the

last moments of life,

while evil lurks behind…

you’re not afraid of

what’s ahead.

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