Something by Ed Blundell

Ed Blundell

There is a silence in the night,
A quiet deeper than a sound,
A hush that screams a warning note
That something evil is around.

The wild wind drops, the clouds slip by,
Tall frozen trees stand stiff and still.
The moon hangs heavy in the sky,
Outside there lingers something ill.

The creatures of the night have fled,
The hunter cowers in his den,
From something slipping through the gloom
That is not of the world of men.

Into the garden through the gate,
In a window burns a faint light.
Something wicked watches closely,
Something far darker than the night.

Slavering hunger, savage bloodlust,
A creature from a time before,
Slides and slithers through the garden,
Creeps and crawls towards the door.


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