An epic poem written by Lee Sonogan
Slight turn of my head,
Leaning neck up and over.
White widespread hills have shred,
Eye-level there was a green clover.
Animal instincts were to eat,
What is this potential nutrient?
Pale as a paper sheet,
Flesh fell off his face with no pigment.
A fugue state,
Lack of general sensation.
Full of what to misappropriate,
I accept a life of damnation.
Unknown chatter was in the vicinity.
Months without a fright,
Was this some serious brain injury?
Deep moans out loud,
As vocal cords again have never learnt to speak.
All language of thoughts were stored in the cloud,
An ant with a weak squeak.
Day until it returned,
Shadow of a primitive figure.
It’s face, metaphysically burned,
Much louder than the mortal initial sense of a whisper.
Such small arms,
Scales of a reptile.
Teeth that harms,
So tall, yet fragile.
Possibly crushed by its pure weight,
If it wills its mightly flex.
Slowing stalking the point of this location,
The beast is out of the line of sight.
Still keeping to a sense of cation,
Seemly wanting to rip with one huge bite.
Bloodlust picks up on the bait.
Open season on deer,
It losses interest in taking time to wait.
Stopping in its tracks,
Our immortal has bug eyes.
Side of the dirt cracks,
Buried again underneath the skies.
Teach a fossil a new trick,
Later to be featured in a museum as an antique.
My god, it was quick,
Abducted like some paedophilia freak.
Long rendered unconscious,
Look at this relic’s hearken.
Opposite of ferocious,
You got to be jerkin your gherkin!
Roads to a familiar unground den,
Brush scraping against the cold-blooded.
Every now and then,
Grasp was adjusted.
Dropped to the ground,
This woke him up.
Cave walls when you look around,
Small compared to the mother all grownup.
Hands rose in front,
Bending the merciful knee.
One stomp of a hoof that is blunt,
Playing a role depicting a referee.