Phil Roberts


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

Out of the depths of the night
Slink foul, unnameable things,
Monsters from a long-lost time
That only the blood-moon brings.

Out of the lengthening shadows
All kinds of sinister beings creep,
Stalking lonely wayfarers
Alone out in the night so deep.

Evil nameless creatures lurk
Just beyond the range of sight,
Longing soon to pounce out
From the pitch-black night.

Nefarious feathered fiends
Are watching you from on high,
Readying to swoop down at you
From the loathsome sky.

Out of the depths of the night
Bat-winged horrors howl,
While from unlit alleyways
Wolf-like behemoths growl.

The sound of heavy clattering
Resound upon cobblestones,
As cloven-hoofed centaurs
Hunt for people out all alone.

Mutant beasts fill the streets
Soon after twilight appears,
Hoping to catch lost innocents
Out in the night-time drear.

Out of the depths of the night
Demons and devils are prancing,
Terrifying all the townsfolk
With their lascivious dancing.

© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia