Treasure Island

Steffi Webster

(25/05/1991 / Cheshire)

Wolves Made Of Nightmares

Pitter patter go those sharp clawed feet
I hear them padding up the street
The lightning strikes against my door
The air is sharp my lungs are raw
They raise their heads, howl in unearthly chorus
Is the devil coming for us?
The wolves cast their shadows into my room
Those shadows will surely spell my doom
I hear their claws scratch at the wood
They shriek and howl and cry out for blood
I heave my bead against the door
They bare their fangs and cry for more
A paw crashes through close to my ear
All I feel now is numbing fear
I can taste their breath on the tip of my tongue
Why now? I am too young
I risk a fleeting glance behind
and what I see drives me out of my mind
Their eyes were fire that burned deep red
I knew that I would soon be dead
A blood stained muzzle breaks through near my arm
Now is surely the time for alarm
As one their lap against my door
My bed is sent spinning across the floor
The door is forced open, silluetted by the moon
I would meet my end in the silent gloom

Submitted: Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Edited: Wednesday, October 19, 2005

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