This poem is random and I hope creepy. The idea of it freaks me out although the freaky feeling doesn't seem to have made it from the idea to the poem. But if it has then don't blame me for any emotional scarring recieved. Enjoy!
The Nightmare Child
It roams across the galaxy
Devouring planets and civilizations
A giant sentient weapon
A horror, a freak
A remnant of a long forgotten war
Some call it the Destroyer
Others the Abomination
Few call it the Deplorable Being
But most call it the Nightmare Child
Vaguely humanoid but nothing like
A mutant experiment, abandoned by both sides
Born from rage, insanity, fire and fear
Still it wreaks havoc amongst the stars
A monstrous creation from hatred and grief
From ice and death, pitch and madness
When it approaches, it fills the endless skies
Its tears of blood fall as rain
Bringing pure unadulterated fear and anguish
Terror, pain and nightmares in its wake
A portent of cataclysmic doom
Of ravaging wars
A sign of silver devastation
Mutually assured destruction
The deep dark depths of oblivion
Of the end of everything
The rise of nothing
Part flesh, part shadow
A fusion of innocence and darkness
It rots and oozes
Pallid, pale and clammy,
It hides in the shadows
Screaming an eerie, shrill cry
Of loneliness and abandonment
Its face is hideous beyond description
Scarred and ripped
A leering gash across its face acts as a mouth
Empty eye sockets weep with yellow pus
Teeth filed to needle points
Slits in the head form a nose
And from the jaws of the Nightmare Child a stench of decay
Of oozing blackness, warm fetid death, gloam and evil
The expression of tiredness, drawn, pinched and reproachful
A longing to belong, of loneliness and bewilderment
Are beyond the human mind to bear, to comprehend, to even see
And all are driven to despair who enter its gaping jaws.
It was there at the fall of Arcadia
The death of the Could Be King
A five year old child, murdering millions
Unaware of the specks of life perishing
As it explores the universe, inquisitive, distressed
Lonely.
The Nightmare Child
Soulless, friendless, without love or joy
The shadows writhe and squirm around its malleable grey bones
Through the gaping holes in its body
An impossible thing
To terrible to conceive
The fabric of nightmares.
