A Silent Night

The streets are silent, and the night pitch dark
A lone survivor breathlessly wanders through a deserted park
He knows his fate, he can feel it in his heart
Him and his family, two worlds apart
When a sudden trembling shocks the night
Slithering steps approaches – his chances slight
He grasps the photo, and holds it tight
One last breath, and one last fight
Has but one wish: To set things right
He stabs the dark clad figure with all his might
It writhes and hisses, jaws clasp to bite
A tormented soul, a man forced to rise
His previous heroics, now a hefty price
Feeding on fear, flesh and rabid mice
Never to achieve the rest of an angel
Enslaved to his hunger, and remote of all danger
A tear for his victim, as he delivers the final blow
He shut its eyes, and softly whisper:
“Fear not my brother, you’re finally going home”

©Alexander Berg Mattsson, 2012

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6 thoughts on “A Silent Night

  1. Da Absentee says:

    I dont know if I said this before, but I like how your “visuals” come off the page. for me they drop me into the scene. anyway all of that to say, I admire your style and the way your mind works. great writing!

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