Its chain cut again,
   the demon is loose

Deep into the night,
  she hunts darker truths

The hallway’s back stairs
  her favorite retreat

Until daylight will threaten,
  and her bite becomes weak

Then she staggers back wounded
  inside shadows that call

Old blood trails now leading  
  to that dark lonely hall

Where a door is rechained
  and its lock fastened tight

Until a hacksaw appears
   —with the next moonless night

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2016)