The hound prowls in the dark corners of the street.
It snarls and bares it’s teeth.
Nervous bulging eyes darting endlessly.
Do not provoke it.
Do not go near it.

How it had gotten to be like this?
I cannot comprehend.
Must have been the doing of an evil man.
The hairs on it’s back stands.
I was just offering my hand.

In the chilly London street.
It drizzles.
The cobbled pavements glistering
I moist my lips
Amused by my companion.
Dear hound,
you need your pound of meat.
And I, I shall have mine.


One thought on “Hound

  1. Pingback: The Hounds Of Hell | emilykarn

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