CLAWS



In the cold of wintertime
Dark creatures do arrive,
Hunting down the innocents
Until no-one is left alive.

It's Christmas in Manhattan
And so now it is time to kill,
With claws, and teeth, and spines
They get their deadly thrill.

The snow lies on the streets
Along with those made dead,
Soon the snowy winter white
Is replaced by rivers of red.

With lethal spines, they shoot out
Just like deadly poison darts,
They fire them at the living
Aiming straight for the hearts.

With teeth as long as sabres
They rip through muscle and bone,
Rending through houses front doors
Killing everyone at home.

No-one anywhere is now safe
From these living terrors,
Throwbacks to some ancient time
Mother Nature's greatest errors.

Claws that can slash through steel
That can filet either ice or bone,
They cut through muscle and fat
As easily as cutting through stone.

In this winter wonderland
True terror has come to stay,
Slaughtering all in the dead of night
Then slumbering through the day.

Claws that are made for killing
And that's exactly what they do,
Eviscerating all they can catch
Running down all but a very few.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

In the cold of wintertime Dark creatures do arrive, Hunting down the innocents Until no-one is left alive.

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Written on November 16, 2021

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on December 15, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:10 min read
2

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABXB XCXC XDED XFGF HIXX XHAH XIXI XJEJ GKXK XXX
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,194
Words 233
Stanzas 10
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 3

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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