The shadowed beast has long been born.
It ate the fickle afternoon
and slinked in inches, bit by bit,
until its claws pressed fragile glass.
The storm’s been swallowed through the maw.
The wicked footman crept until
the world was wrapped inside a shroud
from which I see there’s no escape.
The sound of murder flits around.
The strangled howl of icy breath
is raging in the captive gusts
and strains the strength of slender walls.
Caged rage has slipped its shaky bonds.
The growls are threatening overthrow
in surging bursts of coiled strikes.
The world I knew is in retreat.
There’s something in the biting night
and something skulks the tender ground
to threaten what they once had feared.
The shingles shriek a poignant cry.
I shudder in my comfy chair.
The brisk breeze creeps on eager paws,
its chains long loosed and left behind.
The naked night, in hoodlum steps,
is roaming free of all constraint.
The many-headed beast now rules
the feeble earth and preys upon
the ones who kept it full in check.
For only one denied its due
can stir what’s been so long suppressed.
And what’s this beast that’s growing fast
and pressing at my flimsy frame?
David Reuter is a New Jersey based poet. His work has been published in Existere and Sanskrit Literary-Arts Magazine and is scheduled to be published in upcoming editions of Vox Poetica. He attended the William Paterson University Spring Writer’s Conference in 2018 and 2019. He also attended to Rutger’s Writers Conference in 2017 and 2018 and is scheduled to attend again in 2019. His hobbies include practicing maritial arts, playing guitar, and cooking.