Playing In The Darkness

Playing In The Darkness
(February 23, 2009)

She spreads across the sheet
Like a snow angel,
Her sheer black gown
Draped over her silky skin.

He hovers above her
Drooling like a dog,
Howling into the starry night
That surrounds him like a ghost.

His hollow eyes devour her
Inch by inch,
Imprinting her every curve,
Every mark, into his mind.

He moves slowly toward the girl,
Rips off his clothes,
Takes out his gun,
And shoots inside her inviting throne.

She lays there unmoving and silent
Like a dead corpse,
Long forgotten in the grave
Of an isolated tombstone alley.

The angry wind beats its drum,
The silver moon beckons
With its playful shadowy rays,
Unfurls the beast inside him.

He never leaves the throne,
Exploring, thrusting,
Thirstily gulping down the juices
Of his latest prey, his feast.

His hunger remains unquenched
As he works on his victim.
It is only him and her in this realm,
And the deafening silence of the night.

He keeps on playing in the darkness,
Keeps on singing into the night,
Until he can play no more,
Till there is nothing left of her but the sheer gown.