Poetry

It lies in wait.. a dormant beast...
                               residing where there's none...
In the hills.. and caves of dark...
                               where rocks are weighed in tons,
Waiting for the blood-red moon...
                               when slumber is no more...
It rises from the darkest depths...
                         and steps out of ancient lore,
You strain your eyes to see it...
                               through the shadows of the trees...
But you know that something lies in wait...
                               you can smell it in the breeze,
The crackling of a breaking branch...
                               the rustling in the brush...
Your heart pounds like thunder...
                               and your blood begins to rush,
You turn to see those big red eyes...
                               as they are set on you...
And the distant echo's of your screams...
                               too late for legends true,
It roams the hills on moonless nights...
                               in search of scattered souls...
A thousand years.. it hasn't changed...
                               and no one knows the toll,
Legends warn.. of thee beware...
                               what lies beyond the road...
The Beast of Agua Fria lives...
                               where blood-red river's flow.