(The dribble monster hid away
From part-time Mr. Hyde today;
The parents of a silent bat
Flew northwards to their Lincoln flat;)

A demon stared at passers by
And wondered if they really die
Or if they simply get replaced,
Each dehydrated soul refaced?

A trident leant against the wall;
A trail of footsteps walked the hall,
Their smoky tendrils strolling to
The ceiling, where they filtered through
And filled the loft with evil grins,
Exchanging souls for lusty sins.

An innocent but stupid boy,
Still ignorant of inner joy,
Admired the windtorn mountain veils,
The peaks made mist by taloned gales;
And hummed a miserable tune
Beneath a science-fiction moon.