This week’s story comes to you in the form of a poem. My words, my rules.
The Invisible Beast.
There once was a beast with an invisible fleece,
That made things quite easy when it came to its feast.
It could creep up all quiet and never be seen,
Until it was there right behind you and eating your spleen.
“What was that?” you would cry, as you fell to the floor,
With your invisible foe coming back for some more,
Tucking into your eyes and nibbling your ear,
It’s rumbling belly is the last thing you’d hear.
There once was a beast with invisible horns,
A neat little weapon as it unleashed its scorn.
It could bow down and charge and never be spotted,
Until you look at your shirt and realised it was dotted,
With your blood that had left your four missing limbs,
That were now in the mouth shaped in devilish grin.
Not that you’d see it, not that you’d know,
For the invisible beast was never to show.
There once was a beast with invisible rage,
That had built up inside it while it lived in its cage.
As it longed to get out and eat its way free,
Bite into its captors for a small spot of tea.
They’d been the first to face invisible doom,
If only they’d known it was in the room.
If only they’d seen their invisible sinner,
That would soon be eating them as its dinner.