A nightly visitor

A little horror story written in the form of a sonnet. Hope it gives you goosebumps.

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He walks in dreadful smell of rotten meat
Decaying bodies follows him to sleep
He’s running home on heavy leaden feet
And round his house the hunting monsters creep

He tries to shout for help, express his dread
But hands and claws are tight around his throat
And desperate he tries the ties to shred
His conscious thoughts, they slow, begin to float

And suddenly he is awake again
Pajama tangled ’round his sweaty neck
His heart is pounding and with stomach pain
Relieved he’s leaning back, he’s not a wreck

Then on his chest he sees a dreadful trace
Of claws, and he recalls, the goat-like face
—-
October 21 a dark evening before going to bed.

9 responses to “A nightly visitor

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