Poem 11

47 Responses | Created by shadowgal |

The house is dark,
He scratched his mark,
Hes one of us,
But is he one we can trust?
He bit his lip,
Then felt sick,
When he saw the blood,
Its what he loved.
He breathed a heavy sigh,
And wandered off into the night,
To hunt his prey,
For them I pray.


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