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duncan-morrisonPoems
Ive lost track of time, the hours slip by for near an eternity, there as been no sign... Of movement The Thing is... Zounds! It stirs! Crawling, pushing, squirming; it disgusts me I feel my mind race, muscles tense, Weapons at the ready... I attack! The beast retreats, as I strike Coward... I think to myself crouching down once more Yet it puzzles me whenever The Thing and I met He always hides... Under my masters Feet
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Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 10:22 AM UTC
The Thing
Ive lost track of time, the hours slip by for near an eternity, there as been no sign... Of movement The Thing is... Zounds! It stirs! Crawling, pushing, squirming; it disgusts me I feel my mind race, muscles tense, Weapons at the ready... I attack! The beast retreats, as I strike Coward... I think to myself crouching down once more Yet it puzzles me whenever The Thing and I met He always hides... Under my masters Feet
This poem and Silent Protector are for my Cat; Dante, who with out him, my inspiration for these poems would be non-existent.
duncan-morrison
Written by
duncan-morrison
American
Nov 29, 2010
Nov 29, 2010 at 10:22 AM UTC
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