Snowy Stomps by J William Meek

Step by step and hour by hour 

Rest in death and devour any coward

My boots trample the snowy shower

Crystals form on a beard long traveled

Frostbitten samples of entities unknown

Researched, fought against, and published to be shown

The antarctic backend of monstrous mythical tomes

A crossbow and a flaregun to make myself known

I cross the land, claim it as my threshold

No matter how many times I speak, the land remains cold

Its ancestors feast on the weakest men’s fear

Missing the wife and the kids, she’ll probably miss her dear

So my unequivocal act of murder on this horrid beast

Comes up to an uninsurable patch of unused mortars on the livid deceased

Destined to be exorcised by my boldness released

This is what a man becomes when he isolates himself from all but the least

Slicing through the ice walls and finding its remnants

Its haunting trauma stenches from its stomach’s residents

It finds my struggle in its lair humorous as I find it tenuous

My sweat and tears as I pretend my death to be quintessentially non-evident

It nears, snares, and snarls, echoing through the land of sorrows

My fears, bare and borrowed, freeze my skin off before tomorrow

Enlightened as blue snow as cold as its soul blows across the hills

Never frightened to find a clue as bold as its hope to be killed

It’ll find me soon, my toll and knowledge’s bill

It creeps in the cave, It sings every time it encounters a new slave

Joyous in its leaping, its claw comes closer to mine

A gun is pulled and its too cold to embrace its shine

Its eyes glowed blood red as I fed upon his life

Becoming what it once was,

As its claws turn to hands,

Its fur to clothes

My body turns to his and my soul takes his role

Now I creep, 

I venture for another place to stay

The end of the sheep

The end of my humanity as I leave him in the cave.