Poem by: Philip Roberts
Fiends crouch above the windowsill
Hoping very soon to feast,
Watching the unwary nearing
Soon to pass within their reach.
A squid-like beak readying to peck
Hoping soon to taste warm blood,
As arteries give up their torrent
Flowing in a hot, red flood.
Grey-black wings folded back
Soon stretch out toward the sky,
A fiend takes flight to swoop on prey
Innocents about to die.
Blue-veined wings beat the sky
Primordial death is on the wing,
Courting couples pass unwary
‘Bout to feel death’s awful sting.
Wastrels passing an old manor
Their hopes and dreams completely spent,
Unaware of terror nearing
Loathsome death the night has sent.
Fiends out feasting on moist bones
All that’s left of vagabonds,
That the creatures stalked unseen
Till the time to swoop upon.
A mansion by the edge of town
A mansard roof above the eaves,
Concrete monsters on the rooftops
Or so the passers-by believe.
The screech of death pervades the air
As ancient fiends take to flight,
Batwings soar into the darkness
‘Bout to take another life.
Slashing unprotected pates
Of unwary passers-by,
Swooping down from the darkness
Till yet another victim dies.
Near the village of East Cheem
Unseen creatures haunt the dark,
Seeking human beings to feast on
Perched above a concrete arch.
In the dark, shrill chirping rings out
Evil shrieking resonates,
As leathery wings beat overhead
Warning walkers of their fate.
Still the unwary pass the manor
On the outskirts of East Cheem,
Dry bones line the alleyways
Warning of the crouching fiends.
Shrieking as death comes from high
Innocents race through the gloom,
Trying futilely to escape
As they’re hunted to their doom.
Then as daylight starts to break
Fiends return to perch a’high,
On the manor’s mansard rooftop
Until the coming of new night.
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia
© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.