Shadow of The Beast

A short horror poem.

Four minutes to Midnight
There’s a creature in these woods, so they claim
The moon has risen, weaving it’s light
As though a dully lit lantern’s flame.

The papers have been telling the story
Missing people and large animal tracks in snow
And it’s not a bear or mountain lion, truly eerie
Older folks claim there’s a werewolf around now.

The front door is heavily locked
I stare at it with deep anticipation
And go back to the ticking of the clock
Until a loud crash catches my attention.

The door buckles, warps and groans
Something of great weight presses against it
Snow slams against the house, wind blown
And I load the silver bullet, raising the rifle to my hip.

Growls fill the air that silence the other sounds
Claws dig and chafe the door savagely
Until it bursts open with a swirl of flakes on the ground
And I can see a werewolf standing there, dimly.

An eight foot mass of fur, claws and teeth
Begins to march toward me, eyeing it’s next feast
None can say who will return alive or deceased
As I’m standing within the shadow of the beast.

Reviews

[Noiz]

Definitely reflective of classic horror in the best way possible. This poem has a great mood that reels me in every time I read it. I'm thoroughly impressed by it. Great work.

[Jack Necron (Aubrey Jack Peaslee)]

I'm happy to hear you liked it that much. Thank you for the kind words and for reading.

[Sapientiam]

I like poems that tell a story, so this really intrigued me. The imagery is very vivid and plays to contribute to the horror nature of this. Great job!

[Jack Necron (Aubrey Jack Peaslee)]

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for the feedback and reading.

[Sapientiam]

You're welcome!