"Like a dog that returns to its vomit is a fool who repeats his folly."
Proverbs 26:11:
I sit, with needle and thread, stitching slow,
A doll of voodoo, with eyes stitched tight,
A haunting smile, etched in the eerie night.
The pot upon the flames, stew boiling hot,
But mingling with the scent, a foul rot,
A stench of flesh, decaying near,
Yet still, I sit, with naught a fear.
Beside me, my loyal pup does whine,
I glance down, expecting some gruesome sign,
A dead rat, a bird in decay,
Yet instead, vomit with dried meat, brown and frayed.
I rebuke and cast it aside, with a shudder of dread,
To find in its jaws, a piece of the dead.
The puppy whines, with each chew and bite,
The stench returns, of rot and blight.
I rise, rebuke, and dispose of the vile treat,
Yet once again, it lies at my feet,
The same dried flesh, coated in gore,
My heart races, my skin prickles raw.
Outside, under moon's eerie gleam,
My faithful dog, leads me to a scene,
In the shadows, 'neath shrubs and thorns,
Lies a body, cold and forlorn.
Its skin, a pallid hue, death's embrace,
A silent witness, to some foul disgrace,
And in that moment, fear takes hold,
In the darkness, where secrets unfold.
In the haunted night, by the ocean's roar,
I'm left to wonder, what lies in store,
For in this tale of horror and woe,
Lies the echo of truths we dare not know
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