Knock, Knock.

   
The black hooded grip of a creeper is skulking,

whispering venom, 

Sneaking and stalking .

And into your stomach it’s pincers are 

tweaking;

twisting and

squeezing;

devouring and 

seeking.

From pockets of hope 

it claims what it’s stealing; 

declaring it’s master of all you are feeling;

to pillage your dreams,

and pick-pocket pleasure;

while smearing the sparkle 

of unexplored treasure. 

It crawls uninvited;

while you are sleeping;

skilfully looting,

and craftily creeping;

and into your slumber it’s wilfully catching; 

whilst you are dreaming;

calm breathing snatching.

And into your waking thoughts, 

clarity blurred;

memory becomes tangled and 

thoughts become slurred.

Sucking out smiles then it feeds off your fear;

and injecting it’s poison

in what you hold dear;

it holds you its captive;

you’re trapped in its bind;

it’s gained all your trust 

and infected your mind.

So when it comes knocking 

then lock that door fast;

don’t let it in,

don’t let it past.

It’s a guest uninvited and not welcome here;

that Grim Reaper called Doubt 

and it’s friend we call Fear.

   
   

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6 thoughts on “Knock, Knock.

  1. This is totally amazing. I devoured every single word and I love how it flowed. You are a very talented writer and I enjoyed this so much. Thank you for linking to Prose for Thought and sorry for my delayed comment x

    Liked by 1 person

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