The Monster

The long-dreaded visit to the creature’s den
I approach the gate like a zombie.
The peril is unknown by many,
But to me, I have known no greater torture.
With shaking hands, I push open the squeaking gate
Already, I hear scuffling and scrambling.
A monster with a remarkable sense of smell,
It can feel me here – it can speculate my presence.

I cautiously venture deeper into the rabid creature’s lair
Excited grunts, low growling – sure signs of the monster stirring.
With heavy breathing, I jingle the bell, to announce my arrival.
I’d been here before – but I’d been lucky to leave alive.

The monster approaches, anticipating its next victim.
It lunges at the door, scratching deep into the wood with its claws.
My heart is in my mouth – this is surely the end
With a jerk of the knob, the monster strikes…

That mongrel dog yaps deafeningly at me,
Bursting my eardrums, rupturing my sanity.
The shaggy, white-haired monster leaps,
It sprawls into my lap.