Don't Disturb

Don't Read to Deep, I wasn't meant to be a creep...

 

Claws are hung,

The womb is scarce.

Torn apart and left to try,

Please don’t make that mother cry.

Clumps of hair piling up,

Will she ever give it up?

Not a worry or a care,

Yet, I can’t help but stare.

Back she glares,

Evil, dark, grin of death.

Discontent & mumbling breath.

I refrain...only to realize she won’t sustain.

Eyes closed, mouth shut,

She makes her move,

And runs a muck.

The panter is loud, voice so shrill.

I could play the game,

But I would rather enjoy the thrill.

 

 

Fading into the mist, seemingly trying to coexist