Haunted

Somewhere

On the

Foggy moors

Of the North coast

In a castle as unkept

As a doggy’s paws

Nothing

Or not is all

As it seems

The mirror

Located

In the

Corridor

It is gleaming

Twist the knob

Of this door

Unlock it

To see

How this

Morning’s

A scene of

Mourning

And grieving

They all look

As if they’ve

Been tortured

And beaten

Here’s the

Unfortunate

Reason…

The infant

That was born

Lays in the cot

And in creases

The girl is gone

She’s deceased

When they

Had earlier

Checked on her

They thought

She was sleeping

How awful!

This must be

Some sort

Of a sick dream

But it’s not

The baby is dead

She’s to be paid

With respects

And placed to rest

In a walled

Mausoleum

Someone uses

The phone

On the landing

To call him, beseeching

“You’ve got to come, quick!”

“Okay, I promise, I’ll be there on the dot”

When he arrives

He begins walking

Up and down

With no sign

Of a thought

Or a feeling

But deep

In his core

He’s wondering

What the

Terrible picture

Before him’s

Revealing

“Detective, c’mon...”

“It's obvious

That my reason

For being here 

Is to observe

Check, inspect

And the

Natural recourse

Is to pay tributes

And spurt epithets

To honour the lost

And the fallen”

“But first

Let’s acknowledge

The state in which

The girl’s bed is kept

You see how

The pillow’s corners

Aren’t curled in

And the

Linen spread is fresh?

Therefore, this

And other

Evidence suggests,

That what has happened

Is not common, but rare”

“Now not to alarm you 

But I believe the killer

Was no person at all

Nothing normal

But rather, I believe

It was a certain creature

Which deftly crept

When heads were turned

From that side

Of the window

You can see

Where it left its steps”

“Detective, what does this mean?”

“Well, lately

We’ve had reports 

And have been seeing

An invasion

An invasion of monsters!

Which once

Had been locked away

In an asylum

For the insane

But absconded

Now this one

That escaped

Who last night

I’m afraid

Was amongst us

Decided to prey

On the youngest

The most helpless, a babe”

“Understandably

One of the emotions

You’ve felt is enraged

As well as depressed

And dismayed

At being powerless

To keep your loved one

Protected and safe

As you can see

He attacked her

On the neck

And the face”

“We’re all shocked and left reeling”

“It’s okay

I’ll give you assurance

That we detectives

Won’t let this thing

Get the best of us

Believe that

Every measure

We’ll take

To have it captured

And put back

Where it belongs

Medically sectioned

Detained”

“What has happened

Is scary, it’s wrong

The child which you all

Cherished is gone

And she has

To be buried

Let’s hope

It won’t dare

To return”

“If it does, we’ll catch

It in a snare

Either way, we’ll get it

We won’t give up

Or become weary

Till our work here is done

Until then, just beware

Take care, and be strong”

In the midst

Of society

The monster

Couldn’t

Demonstrate 

Correct behaviour

Or adherence

To rules and laws

It just wasn’t

In its nature

Or remit

To express restraint

How could it be

With this strange one

Who’s insane

From delirium?

Now,

He remotely

Decides

To make an

Appearance

Through

A transmitted

Broadcast

We detected

A radio wave

Interference

Here’s what

He’s got to say

To us, hear him:

“I’m…

“A mutant

Monster!

Frankenstein’s

Screws loose

I’m bonkers

A manic mind

Not as cool

As The Fonz

Just a ghoul

That wants

Your drool

Its food

I’ll chew

And chomp on

That organic slime

I lurk in sewers

Swamps

And in 1912

I used to haunt

The rooms of

Sir Luther John

And Ms. Judith

Constance Blamentine

When I was

In a certain mood

Of feeling blue

And sombre

I set their house alight

When I blew up bombs

And planted mines

I can instantly

Change

Between two strange

Confused personas

Sirens sing

Their beautiful songs

But who of you

Would want

My own music

Pumped

Through their speakers?

Not only

Do I sound gross

I’m ugly

With the crudest

Of features

Us mutants

Us creatures

Society wants

Our lives

To be in ruins

We have no voice

They’ve muted

Our speech

We may not

Be humans

But treat us

With at least

A basic

Unit of decency

And it was me

Who planned the heist

To raid Buckingham

Palace at night

As I crept past

Her bedroom

I wondered,

‘Would it be heinous

To attack her highness?’

How bad can I get?

This madness thrives

On my rotting brain

Decomposed matter

Scabs and flies

When they see me

Humans scatter

And hide

Lest they

Contract the virus

In my normal

Habitat

I’m clothed

In blackness

Due to

Lack of light

I guess it’s just

The facts of life

Rotten luck

That was mine

No choice

But to play

The cards

I was dealt

A pack of lies

If I had emotions

I would collapse

And cry

Yes, it’s true

That I attacked her

But the only question

I cannot answer’s…

“Why?”