It’s Late


It’s late

The air is cold
and the sky is dark
with infinite shades of
black.

The night is quiet
except for the sound
of the scraping
blade.

Against the ground
the metal grates
searching for fresh
blood.

It will be found
tonight for sure
to appease the
brood.

They do hunger
for the innocence
of young flesh and
brains.

These are just some
of the evil things
that lurk at night
when

It’s late.

midnight park.jpg

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Poetry

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