Walking into Danger

A sober night lends one rubbery limbs
to trade awe in dire need of an abode,
mindless of the indescribable whim
that tireless unseen souls grace the road
at such unhealthy hour, gravely grim.

Yes, the task ahead does hold mind hostage,
to fore-go the shadows head foresee
and contemplate life in the sight of an image.
So much of a muse, senses soon disagree
then, uncertainty unveils the mirage.

At first come the disconcerted heartbeats
unsettling the quiet night with heavy steps
soon revealing gargoyle shades about the streets;
with long fangs and nails held out like a crepe
bandage, ready to wrap round wounds they meet.

Against such a fate, the moon is left blind
with no eyes to watch except that of the haunted,
now out in the cold praying mercy's kind
before tear-spent clouds, with falling dew, flaunted
their bounden duty held ever at mind.

Gradually night creatures' cries become
a wild brawl in the head - loud ritual songs.
Slowly, doom drifts closer as the owls hum.
Worrisome tunes and ghoulish gongs
fill the air as motives become a predatory plum.