As the plains, purple stained,
Do reek and smoke like smog, and choke;
From the humours of the air appears,
A mysterious mist that self steers
Like the breath of cold death.
And then under the pale moonlight, a silhouette!
And this apparition does shimmer,
Like ripples in a pond do shiver;
As slivers of the faint twilight slip
Through the dense fog, and escape,
Camouflaging the entity's altering shape.
And from it's opal fangs does blood drip?
As the night clears, perceive
The piercing depth of his ubiquitous gaze,
Which do mortals hypnotize,
And mouthed words do deceive;
Which spoken by his aquiline face,
Yield his audience submissive, to victimize!
By @Wiiliam
