Shredded fog engulfs the night;
forming shadow images of
terrors and fright, until the
incandesce of a cold speckled moon drips,
piercing dreams with iced tips.
Hope carried by laughter and smiles,
lost in the dark and covered with bites,
a blood trail discovery to rusted gutters
as a shocking twist reveals the soul;
I begin to wonder if I am in control.
Investigation leads to dank and grimy places
until desperate pleas screams from the trees;
vanishings now more abound.
I was awakened to these shadows with a soft moan
to battle my demons my sin… alone.
A symbol wasn't etched into flesh
but formed by violent volition,
the night I was chosen by pricks in the neck,
my destiny and a destination, unveiled
standing here ready no longer concealed.
I've learned to harness my hate of
the despicable lies of malice scripts;
fallible truths and breaths of disease,
So I may hunt the creatures that stalk the night
and survive the day of those that stalk in the light.
To be a singularity,
is to be a being who is in need of nothing,
while at the same time,
a being who is in need of everything,
a beauty born from deaths sting.
Honorable winner
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