Black Forest

Tearing flesh as blood and bone
Splatter along the forest floor,
The moon shines bright but the
Shadows hide the dark deeds as if
Behind closed doors.
 
The inhuman screams, the desperate cries,
The pathetic sobs that fill the air outside of
Time; the monster’s roar, the ripping of flesh,
The glee in pain administered so vibrant and
Fresh.
 
The dead trees, the toxic air, the filthy swamp
Damaged beyond repair. The severed heads, the
Dry bone, the innocent souls that died trying to get
Home. The sleepless nights, the rampant fear, the uneven
Footsteps that often occur around here.
 
The shortness of breath, the rabid eyes, the adrenaline
Rush and fearful highs; the shining moon, a sky without
Stars, the smoky forest that hides so many scars.
The eerie silence, the low growling, the sound of
A lone, wounded wolf howling.
 
The splatter of blood, the ripping flesh, the glee from
Pain administered so fresh. The inhuman shrieks, the
Obsidian ground, all that occurs when no one’s around.
The beating hearts ripped out of chests, and the poor souls
Put painfully to rest.

Tell me what you think in the comments! I read and reply to all of them and welcome feedback for improving my stories, poetry, and insights. Thanks for reading!

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