by Nick Gisburne
He creeps in the margins of darkness and dust
He burns with a feverish, ravenous lust
He crawls in the shadowlands, longing to rise
He aches for the pain of your pitiful cries
He flows and he surges, a powerful flood
He slithers and slides to the heat of your blood
He sighs with a whispering, menacing breath
He thirsts for the murderous moment of death
He walks in the shivering stillness of night
Surrender, submit, to the bite
