Cemetery trees
oozing brown leaves
the mournful wind
cries over the sins.

My guide in black
face like a heart attack
leads the way with her wand
toward a green bubbling pond.

Here we sit in a hollow log
watching for movement across the bog
strange creatures, come to drink
zombies, and monsters, slither and slink


Here's our prey, and she points a bent finger
a mistake for this creature to linger
once a man, still on two feet
Now something you'd not want to meet.

Part scorpion, and pig, scales like a snake
she motions for me to aim and to take
Cross hairs align, the safety is cleared
I pull the trigger, in her eye I see a tear.

As he goes down, her facade dissolves
with his memories death, she is absolved
a beautiful woman, emerges and grins
the scenery changes as her hearts on the mend.