Phil Roberts

THE NIGHT KILLER

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






A loathsome fiend meanders
Down a dreary cobbled lane,
Hoping soon to slake his thirst
Inflicting fear and pain.

A man-shaped monster lurking
Near crates in alleyways
Needing soon to make a kill
‘Fore night turns into day.

Lurking, leering, stalking
A fiend pervades the night,
Waiting, hoping, needing
Young innocents to die.

He lurks down dreary byways
To leap on courting twain,
To slash, and mash, and mutilate
Till runs a cupreous stain.

Just like a living monster
From a nightmare that never ends,
The killer slashes helpless prey
As to their death he sends.

This sick and twisted killer
Delights in spreading fear,
To see their look of terror
As death is drawing near.

Like a loathsome terror boat
Leaving death within his wake,
Trawling the night for prey
To send down to their grave.

This monster trawls for prey
To leave slashed and rudely torn,
Slicing, slashing, ripping
To be gone before the morn.

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

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