The Monster’s Ballad

Illustration by Mar Eway

Draw the blood from sickle’s tip

Let it trickle to my lips

Suckle sweetest ruby streams

Find me in your darkest dreams

Wrapped and bathed in salt and cloth

Locked away with rats and moths

Lay to rest my regal soul

Bury me with ankh and scroll

Child of moon, of pelt and claw

Tearing prey with grisly maw

Man or beast, I know no more

Hear my howl in ancient lore

Broomsticks, potions, spells and tomes

Snatching fools from where they roam

I’ll turn them into rats or toads

Watch the skies, beware the roads

Soul of living, torn from death

Robbed of pulse, deprived of breath

White as sheet in blackest night

Did I just give you a fright?

Risen early from my sleep

Clawing up from six feet deep

In your head, my prize I claim

Hungering for precious brains

Creatures springing from the black

From belfries, tombs and run-down shacks

Cackling, laughing, as you scream

You’ll find them in your darkest dreams