The Black Dog

Some call it a black dog, I find it odd,

as I have never seen a dog so abhorred.


The paralysing grip, the fear and cold.

A touch from depths, so dark, so old.


The stench, the grip, the eyes of dark.

The silent death, not sniff and bark.


It ain’t a dog, but beast from depths

a kraken, crab or aboleth


Or maybe, you may pardon me,

I don’t know dogs, as a cat, you see



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