Lightning cracks the sky the way time fractures
the cold, painted skin of a forgotten porcelain doll.
Water drips like blood from the wounded sky
as the creatures of the night emerge from shadowy places adorned with spidersilk.
Among them, one like a demon
spawned purely from hatred summoned from the very pits of Hell skulks through the dripping dark;
taking calculated steps toward
its blindly omniscient victim, hollow-eyed, the bright lamb of the night.
comprised of all the world’s loneliness escapes the creature's throat.
Yearning courses through its veins and its empty soul aches
as the sky extinguishes the feeble embers of purity that still faintly glowed in the dustiest corners of its pitch black heart.