The Beast Comes At Nigh Poem by Shelton Chiuswa

The cold breeze of dusk sips through the sores of my feet,
Rumblings in my belly grow louder as anxiety invades me, with every tick-tock of the Grandmother clock,
Chills fill the room as my body is asphyxiated by the sight of the orange crescent of dusk.


Plastic solders march side by side, bed by bed geared for the ensuing night.
With every starlight glitter the beast descends from the crevices of my flesh.
Sudden rush of blood to the head catapult strength to clear my throat with a cough and spitthe ensuing beast.
Heart palpitations race with breath as i can smell the marathon of aches within my body.

With every swallow my clogged throat wrestles for air and food to pass the narrow passage.
With dusk a heavy load creeps through strangle holding my throat,
Natural reflex for dear life pumps adrenaline and constant bouts of blood to the head as I fight on.

Its claws grapple my neck pushing me downwards towards the abyss,
Its tail lodged on my chest suffocating my fight and flight.
In full throttle I fight but alas the beast is alive and in full flight marauding my flesh with every twinkle little star my eye can see.
What a beautiful night I see the myriad of stars.

My body thaws from within and my flesh boils from outside,
The beast has taken over, alas I have resigned to fight no more
If I die before I wakethe beast will no longer haunt me in the night.
I will lay like an effigy, stone coldin the nakedness of death surely for my flesh joy will come in the morning