Horror poem about a creature that howls in delight at pain and suffering, and can "sing" people to death.
The midnight howler’s shrieking
With a strange, loathsome delight,
He’s shrieking for the homeless folk
Whose life is just a blight.
He’s shrieking with delight
For all the hopelessness he sees,
The sad and lonely losers
Whose whole life’s sheer misery.
The howler spreads despair
Around a malignant town,
Howling with delight as
The mighty come tumbling down.
The howler is a misery-guts
He feeds on suffering and pain,
His howling in delight is
A loser’s last refrain.
The howler’s like a banshee but
His shrieking is in delight,
Street people huddle round braziers
Aquiver in morbid fright:
They’re frightened of the howler
And all the pain he brings,
Suffering, hurt and death
As this ghoulish chorister sings:
He sings of death and loneliness
And failure of every kind,
The loss of life’s a luxury
To those the howler finds:
He finds his prey in thickets
No covers to hide their heads,
He sings a lullaby of death
And by finishing they’re dead!
THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia
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