A Monster is Born
The dark shadows looming,
Across the night façade of London,
The thugs roar with unruly harmony,
But as they release terror up into the smoky skies,
As blood-shot wolves,
Roam the deserted streets,
A forsaken child roams.
He comes upon the pebbled cold streets,
Glaring coldly from below,
The walls whisper in the chilling air,
They speculate the fate of the child,
Forgotten in the fog of the city.
And as he roams across looking for a way to beauty of the light,
The thunderous spies of the night stalk him.
He approaches the swine of the dark,
The timid fool scutters to the alleyways,
Where only fear can strike,
The crowds of demons riot against the good,
Peckish for revenge,
Against their tangled past,
The hunting begins.
The insect speeds across the witches and mutants,
Looking for an escape from the reality of this nightmare,
The claws of robbery take their grip,
Upon his frail arms,
And he with his feeble-minded brain,
Begs for mercy to the faceless terror,
His words of hope echo into the void.
The beasts now feast upon their prey,
Stripping the naïve child,
Exposing him with the harshness of the cold-blooded kind,
His weeps of innocence turn into bellows of hate,
The years pass on to this kidnapped little child,
The wickedness of the underworld groom him,
A monster is born.