The river has almost entirely dried
It is indeed a long ugly wound sun fried
One that spans the length of the land through each town
Like that line of worry off your brow
The rotten clay now exposed
The needy bend and lap water directly from the shallow creek
rags around them to warm them when night is a fridge
The strange dog watches from the ridge
They march on past a thousand abandoned mansions
and try to find an abode less haunted as evening expands
less soup kitchen to the demons and their blood thirsty plights
The chimes of their dinner bells echoing calamity into the night
Scratch a living as the sky is now where morning swims
As the strange dog steadily picks his first victims
Blood to satiate a thirst so deep it brings on repugnant groans
Why, they don't question the fall of one of their own
As the unfortunate person is taken to the ground
devoured by this outlandish strange hound
They just look on as if they won't be the next feast
and the howling demons scream for a piece
Yet the hound won't share the carcass
And taunts the unholy in the darkness
and the demons cry bitterly as the smell of the blood
sends them into contorted fits while the dog smiles blissfully
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