At 12 o’clock am you came knocking
Again, and again, and again
You foul, evil thing
You tried to beguile him
Again, and again, and again
But he was more powerful than you
And not fooled by your incomparable beauty
Yet, you persisted
Night, after night, after night
Until he summoned a familiar
From the depths of his id
You never imagined he had
Darkness against darkness
Horror against horror
Too terrifying
Too formidable
For foul, evil you
Too late you learned
Disembodied, dead
Succubus
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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