JustinPreyer

The Creature

It walks along the frigid ground,
When air is cold and all is mum.
A plodding pace, it makes no sound,
It chills your bones, your fingers numb.
The creature lurks where light evades,
It stalks you in the dark of night.
Your supple flesh its teeth engage,
A lustful impulse you cannot fight.
With the warmth that it extracts,
It leaves you forever insatiable.
But when it goes, it won’t come back –
Its love is unobtainable.