A Synthetic Soul

Big Bad Wolf

After folding the wind
I let out the howl
I'd once choked down
and I feel like..

The big bad
the real big bad
Big Bad wolf.

I'm all around.
I haunt the hunting ground.
Walking a big bad big bad
real bad wolf path.

Hunting you down
to the ground
in a forest filled
with empty mouths.

My stomach growls
a fiendish howl,
ever since leaving
Grandma's house.

She was inside out,
beneath the clouds.
It's me that howls.
I've become something else.

Bad.
Real bad.
Big bad, Wolf.

And on the breeze.
through the trees..
A smell so Sweeeet.
Leading me to my next meal.

Over the hill
I'll have my fill.
My teeth snapping at
the heels of tiny feet.

Salivating.
Antisipating;
the ruby rapture.
What I'm After.

Driving me, madness.
Have to Have it.
There's nothing else
really like this feeling.

Eyes seeing Red.
Rising sunset
reflecting like glass.
Feeling real bad.

Like the real bad,
Big Bad Wolf.

The screams pour out
like a flowing fountain.
And I shall dine on
a most fine feast.

One fit to fill a beast.
The type that you don't see coming.
Coming to shake the deep.
Sorting out the weak is ugly.

I think it's safe to think
that thing that I'm becoming
is something real bad.

I think I must be
the Real bad,
Big Bad
Wolf.





44,154 Poems Read