Carcasses of the Night

Lanterns shine down
upon you.
Move around the corner
and you will find them.

Carcasses of the night
leaving their souls with the shadows.
Gentle predators
waiting for their prey –
the ones that smell pure,
the ones about to die.
Silently they creep
along the crowded streets
mingling with the dead ones
to make their stinking corpses
come alive again for a split second.

The sick and twisted brains
run through the gutter,
hardly alive,
looking to be enlightened,
the warm embrace of idealism
or the cold embrace of death –
sharp claws piercing the soul –
the soft daze of the morning hours
or just a senseless fight
to feel their blood warming
their cold skin,
to leave a mark on the streets.

Innocence torn apart
by the predators.
They’ll find their prey,
don’t worry.
They will devour
each last bit of life
and thought
and soul.

With their crooked mouths
they will devour
and produce even more
carcasses of the night.





First published here.