Posted in Horror, poems

When the clock struck twelve

Tactically trapped by the watchful wolves

Dancing in the darkness with hideous hooves

He embraced across the moor in his winter boots.
He walked and walked in the gloomy light.

Watching the horizon and regretting the fight.
He viewed the room in the attic with distaste.

It had to serve, he had no money to waste.
The house owner was reluctant to rent it.

Alas a better place his pockets did not permit.
Finding a job was difficult to find

He was declined, people were so unkind.

At night he went without food

Which made him bitter and in a foul mood.
Someone, unbidden, entered the room.

A young girl smiled at him and gone was the gloom.

She gave him a hot piping plate he knew not what,

A mixture of coconut, steakΒ  and shrimp.
He gulped it all, he was not prim

As she sat closely, too closely next to him.

Soon he was kissing those hot lips,

Even though this was not in his script.
Some days passed and she was always near,

Yet somehow as time went he lost all cheer.

He had no work and his face grew pale

Slowly she wanted more and he grew frail.

Till at the end he could bear it no more.

His body failed, death was very sore.
They found him cold and all alone.
His body almost stiff like stone.

Could it be murder but who?

Only the house keeper knew.
For she well knew that in the attic a ghost haunted,

And killed any man she fancied and wanted.

The place where someone had killed her

Many at that time thought it was a chauffeur.
He had caught her lustfully searching for men,

And lay with them till the clock struck twelve.

Killed, she would not ever herself control

But sucked viciously any man’s soul.

Author:

This blog is managed by Abhishek Pathania -A computer science student, who writes short poems on genres ranging from horror, mystery, drama, romance, satire, and fiction. Occasionally you'll find motivational quotes and hand-curated articles on a variety of topics, all capable of shaping conscious awareness.

23 thoughts on “When the clock struck twelve

  1. I decided to drop by and check out your blog, and oh my is it great! I absolutely love all poetry, so I found yours so intriguing and well written. The almost dark context – I’ll use this one as an example – mixed with almost a sarcastic and metaphorical tone is absolutely wonderful! I will definitely be coming back here more often.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Eeeeeh! Spine-chilling this is. Thank God this is not night time, I’d been terrified then. The way you have penned it down, it feels like a movie! Seems like you put time into writing the title too, it gives me chills. 😲 The end is even more scary, she eats people’s souls huh. My God!

    This reminded me of a movie I saw. I don’t remember the name, but it had this girl, who was a devil’s daughter and she used to stay in a young man’s home, she was a werewolf or something. It was very similar to this, and very horrifying too. 😬

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Hehe! I wrote it in 2017 when I used to watch Hollywood horror movies πŸ˜πŸ˜¨πŸ˜±πŸ‘»
      I hope you liked that women’s character.
      ..and thanks for always making my work seem special. You’re never out of appreciating words and that keeps me going.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh my God! That requires a strong heart. I like horror movies, but only during the day. There was this movie called ‘Mama’ which I watched during the night, and used to haunt me every night after that. 😹

    Yesss, that woman won my heart in the beginning, but baad me I was horrified. 😡 Like Bhoothnath, nahi? Protecting her house from intruders.

    Anddd, your work is special. You’re never out of inspiring poems, that’s what keeps me going. Sadly, I’m unable to go anywhere these days, due to lack of inspiring poems. 😹 I’ll be waiting for another post on your blog. Hope your exams end soon. 🐝

    Liked by 2 people

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