My Own Little Demons

Another poem about writing. This one is a bit dark but doesn't require a mature rating.

The screams of a hundred
Are heard within my head
And I have often wondered
From what it was they fled

Zombies walking nice and slow
Looking to eat a tasty treat
It’s not their fault you know
They’re sustained by human meat

Vampires skulking in the night
Go tramping through the mud
Seeking a tender neck to bite
Then feeding on the blood

The werewolves’ eerie howl
Resonating through the air
With a fearsome growl
He starts to rip and tear

The villains of my scary tales
Frighten human’s everyday
When at last the hero prevails
These creatures they will slay

The End

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