Heavy stake

Gumshoe on the wire

successions upon the way

murder on the menu

just another working day,

bodies along the moor

a line of pale cold

each one drained of blood

this one seems quite bold.

The day it moves upon us

the worms all find a home

wiggling in the mouths

of bodies cold as stone;

this creature will be back

again it will want to feed

and I will be here waiting

to pin it to its deed.

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