A Goblin Poet

 A goblin poet dwells in me

Anger, its power

A poisoned well, its ink

Words Its favorite meal—

Swallows them, one by one

Then, spits them on a surface

Of a thirsty paper

Severe, his eyes

Killers, his hands

New moon, his face

A murky night his mind—

Devours the stars

With its devilish sense!