The Monster in the Dark

His eyes are glowing orange stones,

His fingers, brittle sharp-snapped bones,

His face, an angle, pointed chin,

His body, rag-bag sticks and skin,

His voice is rough, deep dragging moans.

 

Beware of him, Old Rickety-Bones.

 

 

He hunts the shadows, darkness deep,

He’ll find you at the edge of sleep,

He’ll catch you in his special sack,

He’ll hoist you on his bony back,

He likes your struggles and your moans.

 

Beware of him, Old Rickety-Bones.

 

 

Through the forest, through the trees,

Breaking branches, crunching leaves.

And if he takes you to his lair,

Be wary child of what is there.

He’ll snap your neck and suck your bones.

 

Beware of him, Old Rickety-Bones.

 

Here is a poem that I wrote last year inspired by all things a little bit gothic, spooky and dark. 

 

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5 thoughts on “The Monster in the Dark

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