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Moon Phases
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Poetry Gallery
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The Creature
The creature in me longs to
break free; to lose control
and run wild.
To flee from the despair
of my tragic life that has
become more of a survival.
So black has this existance been,
sometimes stepping out into the
light seems to be the only choice.
Out of the mist you came, extracted
from the warmth of your lair.
The moment my eyes looked upon
you, time stood still for me.
I felt alive again.
I could almost feel my heart
quiver.
Written by Anicent
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