Phil Roberts


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

Shrill whistling rings out
Shattering human eardrums,
Driving you insane.

Whistling out a tune
Of death, madness, suicide,
The Whistler approaches.

The whistler is nearing
People's brains haemorrhage,
At the noxious sound.

The Whistler signals
Death across this country
Right across the planet.

Low whistling from
Impenetrable shadows,
Slithers after you.

Moving air whistles
Like a choir from Satan's realm,
Shrilling The Death March.

Shrilling in the night
The whistler drives people crazy,
Drives them to suicide.

© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia