I have traveled far to this
This place that is filled with
The Stench,
Of what the Thing has done
Throughout time and space
For all that we know
Not caring what
Results of its deeds
I try to escape the path
So many before had not
Don't know how long it'll last
This luck that holds me
Thus far
I duck and I dodge
I run here and there
I fire and miss
But sometimes I hit
It is only one Beast
A fierce one for sure
With a hunger for
Life, to fuel its own
Need, to survive in this
Place, this place far
Away, that is filled
With the stench of Death
This is my entry for Poetry Potluck....wanna read more?
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