The Poltergeist

'Tis a strange love, this love for the night,
A queer fascination, borne out of fright,
And the broad expanse of tranquil moonlight,
Shows not a single mortal soul in sight.

So I'm free to escape civilisation's glare,
Dance neath the blurry stars, breathe in the air,
Do feel my presence, in the whispering wind chime,
'Tis there I sing my blues, now tragically out of time.

As I go wandering cross halogen lit streets,
Where solitary stargazers play their symphonies,
The world sleeps, while escapists loom in pensive solace,
And just for once no tears are shed, and things are all in place.

A distant flutter; it's time I look out for the early signs of dawn,
The city shall wake with renewed lust, and its demons will spawn,
And I hope the sun shines long enough, to screen me into obscurity,
The last one of my kind, as I wage our vendetta against humanity...

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

The last line took me off guard. For most of the poem I thought I was hearing the voice of a pleasant spirit, and then out of nowhere I find out it was a vengeful conspirator all along. You just can't trust anyone these days.