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Phil Roberts 1957 (Melbourne)

Born killers hunt the streets
Of a lonely, loathsome town,
Chasing after any movement
Running everything to ground.

Shrilling like the voice of death
Killers hunting through the night,
Spotting anything that moves
Devouring everything in sight.

Killers hunt the town at midnight
Looking for a monstrous thrill,
Stalking anything that they find
Taking pleasure from every kill.

Looking like prehistoric people
Like some malignant Neanderthal
Lurking through streets and alleys
Through empty stores, empty malls.

Watching for any sign of life
Prehistoric killers planning evil,
To exact upon unwary innocents
Creatures surely from the Devil.

Born killers hunt the streets
Of a town now lost to terror,
Beings from some distant time
Surely one of nature's errors.

Killing all that they encounter
Anything large or small alive,
As they move around the town
Almost nothing will survive.

© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

Born killers hunt the streets Of a lonely, loathsome town,

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Written on September 30, 2021

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on October 11, 2021

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Phil Roberts

I am 64 and loves cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

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    "BORN KILLERS" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 5 Dec. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/111828/born-killers>.

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