The Flood

Long forgotten shadows,
Lurking in the dark
Watching as you play,
Unsuspecting in the park

Their claws long and slender,
And covered in dark blood
Their bodies always different,
They call themselves the flood

Their bodies either big or small,
But always hidden with the trees
Their eyes full of hunger,
They hunt in backs of threes

Watching as you swing,
Legs flying in the air
Reaching out and touching,
Your thick and curly hair

Gently the wind blows,
Brushing past you face
Inhaling your scent,
Yet they remain in their place

Waiting for the chance,
For them to jump and strike
Still playing peacefully,
It’s you who they like

Finally its time,
They run and break cover
You notice them and scream,
For the one you call your mother

Their hunger howls,
Echo through the night
And fill your heart,
To the brim with fright

One breaks from the crowd,
And looks you in the eyes
You legs give way,
You can do nothing but cry

It’s hovering above you,
Pinning you in the dirt
Watching you in malice,
Clearly you’ve been hurt

As its teeth grow near,
Smelling its fowl breath
You see your salvation,
In the one you know as Death

The teeth sharp as needles,
And pressed against your skin
Your eyes plastered shut,
Unable to see it grin

It presence disappears,
You open your eyes
And listen to the howls,
Floating in the summer skies

You look to the flood,
And witness a scene
The flood no longer working
Within a well designed team

Their long and slender claws
Stained with their own blood
They fight with one another
They call themselves the flood