Neath Guttering Light

Beneath the street light

He stands enwrapped in shadow

Awaiting dawn’s touch

**********

Here where it began

Afraid, yet too, welcoming

Aware of his fate

**********

Lifting up his eyes

A final flickering glimpse

As the lamp gutters

**********

First light of new sun

Encroaches near, stealthily

One last look at city

**********

Blazed by ghoulish feet

Crimson trails of hunger, pain

Innocent blood shed

**********

Each step of the path

Leading inexorably

To this last moment

**********

Fare light not yet lit

Shivering from unknown dread

Spilt coffee, black, hot

**********

An early taxi

Cruises past, driver yawning

Mortal… ignorant

**********

Hot as a torn throat

Pierced, ripped, flowing carotid

Deep hunger flutters

**********

Pulling back from brink

Refusal bone deep… No more

A creature of night

**********

Yearning for the light

Raised hands a supplication

He beckons death … “Come”

**********

Here, centuries past

Where his maker had been met

His fate sealed in blood

**********

Once he had hunted

Power, life unending, dark

Here he had found it

**********

Here he would end it

Beneath this guttering light

Torn neck long since healed

**********

Immortality

At cost of immortal soul

Now a pile of ash

**********

As sun rises high

An elderly street cleaner

Dumps ash into bin

**********

Beneath the street light

Maker stands wrapped in shadow

Bloody tears spilling