Feast
By David Roth
© 11th February, 2005

Dusk creeps onward,
And with it come the scary things;
The things that go bump in the night.

Hidden in a shroud of surreal darkness
Are the monsters that feast
On the souls of mankind.

Formless and adrift in ebony mists,
The monsters come,
Piercing the night with their screams.

Alone in the solitude of my nightmare,
Hidden in the dark from the eyes of the world,
I cannot escape them.

These are the demons that haunt my night,
Eaters of souls and devourers of dreams,
Dark denizens of a world unseen.

In the cold, dark mausoleum of broken dreams
Unfulfilled expectations and accusing regrets,
The monsters come, rabid for the feast.