I saw her. God help me, I saw her.
At first, I thought it was some terrible dream,
Paralysis prevented me from screaming,
As my chest heaved from the weight of this hag
Who fed upon my breath
To describe this horror
At the expense of not sounding sober
Defies reason if not sanity.
For how can one convey this monstrosity
With any hope of being taken seriously?
For weeks, each morning I awoke
I felt dead tired, almost broken,
From want of a good night's rest
That defied all logic at best,
Since, I lie down at a quarter to ten.
The other night, as I labored in sleep,
I awoke to find this fiend
Whose lidless eyes stared into mine
Bulging from a skinless mien,
Exposed muscles, sinews, and pulsating veins.
She puckered and sucked each breath
As she rode my chest
Her grey hair undulating in a most unnatural state.
It was then that I began to understand
That it wasn't my breath, but my skin she might take.
But night had waned; it was almost daybreak
The Boo Hag must return to her old skin
Or perish from within
Being exposed to the sun, she will explode;
So this vampiric legend goes.
It is up to you to stay up and wait.
I will be used as bait
For when she comes to feed,
Her shedded skin, you must seek,
For this vessel is how she deceives.
Salt and pepper is the weapon of lore.
A seasoned skin will reject its host.
The Boo Hag can no longer hide,
Day or night, without her guise.
She'll be vulnerable in her natural state.
It is almost a quarter to ten
‘Tis time for me to go to bed
Try and stay awake
For if we fail, and the Boo Hag escapes,
It'll be my skin, she eventually takes.
Saturday, February 15, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: folklore,horror,legend,nightmares,sleep,vampire,witches