Dogged by the Curse 33

I feel the hunger. I AM the hunger
And I am free to feed at last.
The scent of evil has grown strong this night,
Stronger than I can remember,
And I struggle to keep my sanity
As I anticipate the taste,
The sticky sweetness of guilty blood
Flowing down my throat in greedy gulps.
I run faster, throwing myself into
The pursuit of my prey, covering more ground
With each and every thrust of my legs.

I speed through the streets of this town.
There are humans hiding in the homes
Lining this road, hiding behind the doors,
Their breathing heavy with anxiety;
I smell their fear thick in the air
But I race onward, undistracted.

My lungs burn from exertion,
My legs burn from effort,
My mind burns with bloodlust
As I reach my destination and
Fling myself into the devil’s den.
The heavy door shatters like kindling
But I neither feel the impact
Nor slow my headlong rush into hell
For I am death incarnate, the hungry grave…
And at long last it’s dinnertime.