Stalker Of The Night Poem by Frances Ayers

Reviled through time, he stalks the land

Where unseen creatures hide from sight

Among the unsuspecting hoards...

Lingering, searching for one more bite

Blood lust grows stronger with each kill

The night shields him from detection

Little he cares for their cries and screams

To him, their cattle, there's no affection

He Knows his kind is a dying breed

Centuries have passed like grains of sand

Waiting for someone to set him free

To banish his soul by their avenging hand