Awaken in a pulsing pool of blood and bile, piss and stool
search the sheets for any clue to this fetid, frothing brew
scream until my face turns blue, tiny fingers piercing through
hooks and horns and hooves in queue, soaked in vile, seeping stew
first to break begins to chew, soon amidst a gruesome zoo
overrun by fangs and drool, feast of flesh for frenzied ghoul

Shrieking with the daylight’s nearing, turning smoke and disappearing
necrotic gnolls no more before me, watch them burn, beg, burst, and plea
who’d believe what I did see, as I ceased my chanting ‘z’?
I close my eyes and count to three, a trick I learned long lost at sea
hoping for some morning glee, with piercing pain I must agree
it was real, not fabled shearing, from my chest four demons rearing

Singe the last of spoiling sage, chant a hymn from human page
surly this will end my plight and quell my growing, frenzied fright
bleed my arm, a task so slight, to nevermore relive that night
embers dying in my sight, chances dwindle with the light
if they think the time is right, I’ll kick and scream, scratch and bite
noxious beasts of boiling rage will not confine me to this cage

Another day ‘round five o’clock, my muscles tense and soon they lock
spasm, spit, puke, and hack, holy hell, they’re coming back?
deafened by my sternum’s crack, callous cretins never slack
bursting through to form a pack, six-eyed shadows again attack
shred my skin, my teeth they stack, jab my ribs and make them clack
far too long they prod and mock, rising sun brings goblin stock

I feel as though I’m off my rocker, but that would come as no shocker
lick my wounds and try to think, “Do I truly need a shrink?
Maybe just another drink, to get my life back in sync?”
hair of the dog with tongue of skink stains my lips with purple ink
on my desk, the glass goes ‘clink’, close my eyes for just a wink
maybe rum will be the blocker of this horrid, heinous stalker

At last some joy in days so bleak, haven’t seen them in a week
there she is, forgotten pain, holds me down like iron chain
what the fuck, am I insane? No escape from barbarous bane
I bend and break as they drain all the blood from every vein
one spoke to me and did explain, laid it out so very plain,
“If you wonder what we seek, we only aim to cull the meek”

It make no sense that they would pester an able bodied child molester
the call me meek, but I am strong, to slink away for oh so long
as they feast, they sing a song, strike my skull as their gong
was this my fate all along, or did somewhere I go wrong?
my coming death, they do prolong, soon to rest on father’s prong
I played my part, the rapist jester, left to die, rot, and fester.