Learn more about other poetry terms

  The city street is their territory And we are their prey. I used to not mind it so much. Their stares. And their piercing howls.
Let’s get one thing straight, I am not Alice. My Wonderland and her’s are different things; Her’s had talking animals and malice, Mine has a dissimilar kind of beings.  
Oh ,wicked fiends
Hath tho beauty of thy one With legs as powerful as stone Weighing as much as a ton Once again on thy throne. She is, they are, God's gift. Made to help man rule the world, 
Sahara heat pierces the air
Subscribe to beasts