There was an eclipse last night,
The atmosphere grew heavy,
I scanned it with bloodshot eyes,
And I grew fearful,
To witness such beauty being obscured,
By a shadow of such an evil thing,

Witching hour…

As the lunar goddess was enshrouded,
The voices began their furor,
Rageful claws bore down,
Driven insane by the night air,
Be they spectre or succubi?
I was not privy,

New dawn…

I awaken sore and beaten,
Crimson scratches down my back,
A bruise or four,
I leave the abode into daylight,
The sun has taken the sky,
And I grow fearful.

Comments
  1. Ben Kohns says:

    Do you draw your pictures from the poem or vice versa?

  2. judeitakali says:

    Very eerie and beautifully written

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