The Beast Beneath The Beck
The beck at Westgate End is full of reeds,
its water is a muddy shade of brown,
confused ducks die within anaemic weeds
as sunken shopping trolleys pull them down.
Sometimes you hear a cold slithering splash,
as though some ancient creature has slid in
to feast upon the centuries of trash.
Who knows what evils are contained within?
It waits for drunken sops no one will miss -
staggering from the Redoubt To The Rock,
it lures with an intoxicating kiss
that leaves them in a state of wide eyed shock.
The Beast Beneath The Beck is quick to greet
and keeps unwary drunkards off the street.
The beck at Westgate End is dark and dank
I contemplate it, sitting on this wall
It’s stinking vegetation thick and rank
Floats on the surface prone to cover all.
A body would be lost beneath that sheet
Stored for later consumption in a cleft
A larder, for the beast, of rotting meat
And Gnawing on the bones till nothing’s left
I stagger home to sanity and bed
Where dreams will haunt me as I try to sleep
A scaley demon crawling through my head
Dragging me down into the waters deep
The Beast Beneath The Beck is swift to kill
But lingers long into my nightmares still.
I know these things are nothing but a tale
Conjured by alcohols bitter excess
A construct of the spirits and the ale
Of which I’ve drunk aplenty I confess.
It whispers softly though it’s words are fake
telling me of the pleasure and the pain
and just one kiss is all that it would take
to fall into its loving arms again
But still the nightmares come and haunt my dreams
I seem to know its face and it knows mine
The plaintive clamour of a thousand screams
the crawling of a shiver down my spine
The Beast Beneath The Beck still lies in wait
Each time I drag my feet along Westgate
It waits for drunken sops no one will miss -
staggering from the Redoubt To The Rock,
it lures with an intoxicating kiss
that leaves them in a state of wide eyed shock.
The Beast Beneath The Beck is quick to greet
and keeps unwary drunkards off the street.