The Night the Shadow did a Masquerade

I thought danger lurked outside the door,

Till a shadowy knuckle tiptoed in and tapped my shoulder.

“You! What are you doing here?

Aren’t you satiated yet? 

Millions you’ve gobbled up,

Cloaked as crafty corona,

From siblings to sons,

Breadwinners to beloveds?”

“Ho, Ho, how I love a seven-course meal,

Didn’t get a delicious dessert tonight.

Hey, why don’t you serve me some?”

“Upon my dead body! 

Don’t you touch anyone here!

Take me if you will.” 

The masked face darker than a dungeon,

Cast around its capricious glance,

And lit up with devilish glee,

Like a shadowy tunnel,

Inkily iridescent in a flickering, fading light.

“Ho Ho, not you,

You twattle too much,

How about that one, like a little lamb,

Crouching in the corner?”

“How can you? She’s so small and shy!

Aren’t you done being dead drunk on human blood?

As if it were your daily cocktail of Bloody Mary, 

Culled from corona’s corpses?”

“Ho Ho, when it’s a feast that I eat,

There’s no big or small.

Hardly matters if it’s a human or beast,

Meat is meat!”

Scooping away my furry feline bundle,

As ginger as Audrey’s ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ cult Cat!

Death disdainfully dropped his mask at the door.

“Ho Ho, I had to wear this mask to trick the guards at your gate,

Huh, but I don’t need to don measly masks,

I am the Naked Truth!”