The Sphere

The Sphere

a caged barbaric beast sat alone
the conclave of its hold to the darkest order
suffice to say it broke from its chains & walked at night
roaming the streets of Liverpool in vengeance for blood

long hanging viscous fangs that fright
dripping blood off side we hide
the torrents of water flowing from a nearby spring
a fare maiden waits on the edge of the lamp poll

out of curiosity she wanders away aimlessly into the street
in full view of the beast she stand motionless
words can't express her terrified thoughts sifting inside her
she bravely hold forth her sphere

violently glancing off the head of the beast
blackened death of screams come forth then disappears
a parting quest to put the beast to rest
was this all an illusion or a figment of imagination

She stands victorious with words expressed of joy
to carry on her wayward search into the night once again
a pillage of taunt residue sifting through the rubbish
only to use the sphere out of real need or necessity

A blaze of glory to a magical sphere
Such a heroic impulse saved the vast domain

This poem is about: 
My community

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