Night of the jackal

The pheal of a ravening jackal
tore through the soul of night,
the sky was raging cinnabar,
by an evil moon made bright.

All around lay calcined bones,
a harvest of despair,
and rags of pulsing human flesh
bestrew the jackal’s lair.

Once more the piercing cry goes forth,
a siren for the dead.
I really must stop eating cheese
before I go to bed.


 

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