Poetry Macabre

bert Watson Mar 2021
Slumbering in my capacious tomb,
I dread the surrounding recesses.
I’ve carefully examined every room,
silence building into deafening excess.A horrid intuition commands me now,
Something watches at the threshold.
Hours have passed without a sound,
But I’m no fool, silence, I withhold.Feigning sleep, I bow my head,
allowing the stranger to approach my bed.
No longer a bugaboo, it draws its knife
springing forth like a cobra to take my life.Snarling like a beast, I counter its jab
Horror marks its face as I ferociously grab,
Wrapping its head with my blanket,
I twist, and lay the beast to casket.Every night I battle my beast
And never have I ceased
To terrify that familiar freak,
Haunting my subliminal sleep.

Inspired by “The Tell-Tale Heart,” by Edgar Allan Poe.