Oh quaint once was the bedtime story
To ease our wee ones into snoring
To mesmerize with tale so deep
It made it difficult to sleep
The bedclothes clutched in sweaty palm
Though words were meant to lull and calm
Were often laced with heady peril
Green-eyed fiends and creatures feral
If only days were still like this
I’d sleep through night in carefree bliss
Instead my eyes dart left to right
A dreaded sense of curse and blight
That nothing was will be again
To stay the course is dashed in vain
It’s not as if we asked for this
Dark tales of the Apocalypse…
But should we face our fear straight on
Perhaps that is what gets it gone
So listen now to modern odes
No matter what they dare forebode
With poisoned fang we have been bitten
Does not mean ending has been written
To get us through, please visit often
My priggish tales are meant to soften
The crushing of all spiteful blows
My words with rancored ire glow
Yet tinged with smirks and light dismay
But you’d have them no other way!
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