The Terror Poem by Alex Berkowitz

Disappears in the dark of the night and the mist of the moonlight.

It roams around the dark waiting to embark.

When you see it you see the face of a monster, a terror, an unspeakable thing.

He comes from the dungeon of the skulls and the home of the crows.

Nobody ever goes there, if they did they would be bare bones.

The earth underneath us will shake when it is awake.

Sometimes it prefers little children to ridden.

At dawn it goes back to come upon the pile of bones.

When it feeds it sees the faces of every little face of fright.

Watch out it might get you too.

 

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