The sun slings low
Dips in distant far off lands
Shadows lengthen so
Are bound to nature’s wands

A sensation settles in
A beastly urge to change
To a shade of wily sin
Howls in the wilderness range

The eyes redden deep
The skin like a parchment rips
Natures promise to keep
Kisses alter to vicious nips

Snarls bare the canine
A hump on the shoulder blade
On flesh ready to dine
In gore with abandon wade

As hair sprout on a cheek
Smiles distort to guttural growls
Nails deform out to seek
Laughter morphs to echoing howl

Our soul’s possessed demons
Those reside within our self deep
That hound our waking days
Turn dreams to a thrashing sleep


Original… saadat tahir
11 Dec, 2012
Islamabad.

(Conceived at Piazza San Marco, i.e. St Marks’s square, Venezia Italy, some time back)