This howling monster will eat me alive; that is no question. My bones will grind between its teeth, white powder in a void black maw. I can feel its breath on my neck, wet and hungry like a teenage boy in the dark. This howling monster will not be satisfied with surrender; only sunder will fill its canyon belly. It can rest no moment until it is fed. Those eyes are too full of souls.
This howling, monster will cannot go quietly, growling I EXIST until its throat burns.
I feel like this is my first poem in years. I think it probably is.