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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1935132
Who knows what happens in the depths of night, with the moon as the only witness?
Under the full moon, the creatures danced
Shadows writhed in deepening gloom
Vague, misshapen, bending, blending
Rustling, snapping, growling, yelping
Trees erupting, branches clawing
Crooked shapes of agony’s drawing
Smaller shapes ‘tween branches flit
An afterthought, a nightmare’s whit
Faster, faster, whirling high
A living inkblot in the sky
Tooth and tusk and claw in flight
Brought sharpened word in silvery light
Tearing, gnawing, bashing, gnashing
Round and round a prickly slashing
Leaping, bounding to and fro
As feral voices crescendo
Frenzied limbs tangled in twain
The creatures know not where to go
And voices rose and shrieked and wailed
Purple sky began to pale
Creatures bolted tooth and nail
Rosy light of dawn unveiled
Sent all abominations unknown
Slumbering below into the ground
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