Post Your Poetry
Witchvox Chapter: Local Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 43315
Posted: December 4th. 2012 8:49:49 PM
Age Group: Adult
The moon is cold,
the night is dark,
and the Beast returns to claim me.
He stands ore my form,
his jaws agape,
shining sabers blinding white.
I see his matted fur,
blackened by knights kill.
I feel his heated breath,
ragged from the hunt.
I hear his huffing sigh,
feel his shifting weight,
his hot kiss upon my neck.
I feel him settle in beside my bed
alert and ever aware.
My hunter, my guardian, my friend,
He is mine, as I am his.
Author's Notes: In the few short hours of rest I was able to procure last night I dreamed, as I often do, of a great beast that stood sentinel in my camp. A ferocious creature, with gleaming eyes and blood matted fur. He smelt of death and decay, earth and dew drenched moss. He smelt of untamed woods, animal musk and blood. He was death personified for all but myself as he curled his heat around my body. Always more of a comfort then the small fire lit beside my ground sheet. He was my guardian, and friend, my protector and companion.
I was his, friend, his companion, and his duty. My soul was his to guard and protect. He was mine and I was his.
Author's Location: Murphy, Texas
More Poems: Dwenellian has posted 3 additional poems- View them?
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