She flew high into gray moonlit air,

Glittered dust, falls from freshly found wings.

Warm summer air tickles her face,

Toward the moon, she glides on a dream.

And yet,

black shadows of night, veil a villain.

His trap, invisible to innocent eyes.

Sticky white treads, the hair of a ghost,

Her flight ends in a twisted wreck,

he has caught her.

In a panic, she twists, and struggles,

the cords, too powerful, for the caught.

 A threaded coffin, crafted in moments.

She is mummified, yet still alive,

he looks her up and down.

Looming over the freshly caught moth,

the spiders eyes hold, true terrors gleam.

Under the fullest deep quiet of the moon.

He dances with her.

She is beautifully subdued by his desires.

Under his sharp fangs, he smiles.

She cries,

the killer drinks,

her juicy life away.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert