Like death striking out from the dark
The cursed thing comes ever closer
Straining to consume me
It moves slowly, tantalizingly
Trying to poison me with its food.
Oh how hungry I am,
Yet I know better
Then to trust this wretched thing.
It changes pace and moves faster
I jolt in my furry to attempt to dodge it.
My attempt is redundant
For I am being paralyzed by some
Unknown force.
Slowly the foreign hand
Comes close enough and gently lodge
The venomous food into my mouth.
I am hungry,
I am weak,
And I lose this battle three times a day.
Copyright 2003 mistress_shadow
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