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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Horror poem about a legend I made up.

Submitted: January 29, 2011

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Submitted: January 29, 2011



The darkening approacheth
To fill the land with terror,
A living, breathing, consuming form
A giant biological error.

The darkening will strip the land
Of everything that’s breathing,
Reducing the oasis to a wasteland
Before finally leaving.

Leaving a barren desert
With very little living there,
Then on the breeze it vanishes
As light as living air.

But air that hunts the living
To feast upon its blood,
Leaving none behind to tell
Of monstrous things it’s done.

A giant soaring bat-winged form
Transparent, or so they say,
Reflected ‘gainst the moon at night
But invisible in the day.

It soars were the breeze takes it
Hunting and killing all it finds,
Until a barren lifeless place
Is all that’s left behind.

It reaches a thriving oasis
A paradise by the sand,
Yet when the darkening departs
No living creature stands.

It strips the land of plant life
It devours wildlife ‘cross the land,
Cattle, plants and animals
Before it starts on

The darkening leaves nought behind
No single living creature,
It strips the land of all its life
Leaving a barren, lifeless feature.

So when the darkening descends
It’s best to leave this place,
Just grab your kids and animals
And set off on a race.

A race to beat the darkening
Before its death descends,
A race against a hungry foe
Before your life doth end.

The darkening soars on the wind
Hunting far and wide,
Bones and brittle stalks are left
The signs of those who died.

The skull bone of some cattle
Perhaps the femur of a man,
To show that death upon the wind
Has stalked this wasted land.

© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts

© Copyright 2017 Philip Roberts. All rights reserved.