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MUTANT DAY SPECIAL
Legends murmured by the fire
Myths divulged by candlelight
Fables whispered filled with ire
Describe these creatures of the night.
Malice fills their heinous glares
Pale gray skin rots off the flesh
Red eyes gleam with ghostly stares
Gleaming claws were made to thresh.
Swathed in fire, draped in ice
Steadfast in their fierce intent
Full with anger, filled with vice
Hurt in their dark forms is pent.
Silently, they walk the ground
These graveyard dwellers of the night
Skulking soft where sin abounds
Their eerie eyes shunning the light.
Rarely seen, heard or touched
Mutants herald signs of fear
But Mutant Day is time for all
To materialize, emerge, appear.
So on this special day find time
To glimpse a view unique to see
Of all things rare, unique, sublime:
Mutants roaming, wild and free.
The Two-headed Hissi
Something terrifying lies
Beneath the dark forbidding skies,
Beneath stars, beside the sea,
Below the forest's canopy.
It slithers, slides, through and toss,
Between the dark and thickening moss,
It rears and cries, the king of beasts,
On hunt for a delightful feast.
Its claws are strong and simply huge,
All beware! Shall take refuge,
And hide with fear of Hissi great,
Prepare to meet the darkest fate.
A powerful swipe can wipe you out,
A snake-like neck, and giant snout,
Its deadly tongue is quick and thin,
With teeth as sharp as nails and pins.
Prowling, stalking, creeping, seek,
It stands upon this jagged peak,
It gazes at the lightened blue -
And has not one head...
Vicious beast from potion born,
A sight that few can take.
Repugnant is the twisted form,
Behold, the Mutant Draik.
Created from a bottle dark,
Does bitter creature grow.
So sinister those narrowed eyes,
Alight with titian glow.
Leather-like, that olive form,
Scales gleam with eerie light.
Those onyx wings in tatters hang,
As creature lifts to flight.
A frighting terror, swooping down,
A vision in the skies.
The world above a lonely place,
As overhead, he flies.
The Draik born from a suspect brew,
A beast within, contained.
So harmless may the inside be,
But fear is still maintained.
A dark enigma in the night,
His purpose, so unknown.
The bitter sight of Mutant form,
Means he must fly... Alone.
A Mutilated Day
Of dense night
On this, a mutilated day
Keep away, young ones, keep away
When graves are fresh with dirt unearthed
And Sloth cackles with unbridled mirth
For creatures stalk which are not whole
With warted skin and breath that's cold
Pale eyes stare from drawn frail face
Skeletal feet dance at staggering pace
Wisps of skin hang in leathery flaps
And Mutant Quiggles bloat black burlaps
Gaping mouths with withered lips
Scaly hands with slippery grip
Guttural groans lace dull dank air
And yellow flakes dot lanky hair
Mutant Lupes shriek in dead howls
Mutant Lennies salivate at the jowls
Curved blue talons screech and yawn
Creatures which scamper at red dawn
But swagger on this, Mutant Day
When earth is chill and sky is grey
The Mutant Draik
Across the open sky the moor wind blows,
It speaks of breathless cries and unheard pleas;
Beneath the willow's whiplike fingers
It shines like garnet,
Glints like sun upon the seas.
Eyes like scarlet coals in ever-dying flame,
Waiting, seeking sun in pitch-black night;
Seeking comfort, yet in darkness, far from tame,
Peering at the world,
They watch with never-failing sight.
Shadows deepen and the wings take to the sky:
See the malformed creature, deathly pale!
See the spikes along his back and hear his cry,
Unearthly echoes following his wail!
See his shadowed silhouette
Against the silver moon,
See his blood-red gaze afixed upon myself below!
See his forehead glisten,
Marked with ancient rune,
See the moon her fingers on his face bestow!
See him turn and stare full-force at me,
See him glare with deadly hate-filled starkness!
Graceful, chilling all at once is he;
See him fly to me through sky and stars...
Total Poetry Pages : 1865
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