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Michael Sinclaire
Poems
Dec 2012
A Monster for Real
In the midst of everything
I linger and stare
at pallor stranger
passing by
and I gather thoughts
with eager ease;
hungry prey
with moistly lips
Awaiting on some lonely stroll
with woman-hood not far behind
and look upon her nightly walk
her path I follow with gazing stare
Better days, her beauty speaks;
returning from some horrid dream
of young fantasy at home she left
longing to be with shining gleam
in my stranger twinkling eye
Not knowing that our paths will cross
she does not weep for love that was
but dreams lightly of love anew
When I pass with tender step
from staring silent on my stoop
I hunger lust forevermore
and wildly I shall proceed
Succumb to me my little bird
like melody on palisade,
and sing me songs of kingly halls
that echo deep in eternal crag
In darkness feast I shall on her
in waking dream I shall become
until too late the deed is done
in nightmare lover's hands lay still
Oft these thoughts of wanton things
that tend to drive my waxing dreams
waning not this horrid inkling
monstrous thoughts with monstrous wings
Barking mad in empty head
this wretched thing it does not sleep
to leave me be I wish it now
and bother some more lurid soul
and cast down he from highest steed
from peak to deep by cavern cold
chasm wide like open arms
embracing the forgettable
the last of man will lay at rest
his voice will wring among the stars
his body lay beneath the ground
his mind that murmurs in the void
Mortality shall be driven aft
to deeply bowels of hubris Hell
where no man can utter cry
of wanton deed or lustful way
Where the tallest man
to walk the Earth
is the tallest man
to stand beneath it
All the while his heavenly thirst
is nothing short of bliss
Written by
Michael Sinclaire
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