LOATHSOME CREEK

Loathsome Creek is fetid green
And nothing decent could live there,
But indecent creatures roam the banks
And blighted things fly through the air.

Rivermen creep through the gloom
Of a fog that surrounds the creek,
A permanent shroud around the water
Where half-dead things foully reek.

Risen from the murky grossness
Gilled humanoids walk onto land,
Breathing either air or water
As they give the Rivermen a hand:

Rivermen and the Gila Man
Set out through the evil shore,
Looking for innocents to kill
Wanting villages to explore.

Human meat is their favourite
And they murder just to eat,
Killing men, women, children
All to sate their evil needs.

Loathsome Creek is fetid green
Slimy moss grows near the water,
Lethal reeds grow in the creek
Hoping soon to commit a slaughter.

As animals warily cross the creek
Reeds reach out, lashing after them,
Trying to drag them to their doom
Drowning them in water like phlegm.

Through the water, dead things swim
In the slimy, oily, mouldy creek,
Where nothing good ever comes
But Rivermen come out to seek:

Seeking guileless beasts to murder
Then to skin and slowly devour,
In the misty, shrouded environs
Every minute is like the witching hour.

THE END
© Copyright 2022 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia