BEAST OF THE MOOR

The Moor Beast

The bloated form came from afar,
Distorted features unnatural, bizarre.
Feet slowly eroding the ground,
Tread almost like a pulverising sound.
Ghoulish grin incisors bare,
Huntsman approaches blissfully unaware.
Impetuous heartbeat, a meal in sight,
Incisors grind an invisible bite.
Huntsman closes on windy moor,
Penetrating coldness to the core.
Waxen eyes hidden behind a mound,
Prepare to ensnare without a sound.
In range the huntsman stumbles and falls,
The beast pounces teeth locked it mauls.
With a fluted gulp it leaves,
Crimson teeth vescent in the boisterous breeze.
A wind swept outcrop reveals a retreat,
A louring place to sleep and eat.
With each kill strength returns,
While ghoulish eyes entrap and burns.
Mesmeric ways, and coursing veins,
It hunts by day across wind swept plains.