SEED PEOPLE

Seed people are flowering
Within a doom-cursed forest,
Where only nightmares live
And nothing worthwhile rests.

Growing like spreading bushes
Seed people reach to the sky,
Hoping to feed on the birdlife
As innocent avians fly by.

With faces vaguely humanoid
Trunks that are tall and wooden,
They wait for unsuspecting life
To stumble through their dens.

Shallow roots upon woody feet
So, from time to time they walk,
Slinking up toward man or beast
Through the forest they stalk.

Grown from seeds they're born
To vaguely resemble human beings,
But they're nightmare  creatures
Devious, blood-thirsty things.

Seed people are flowering
On the banks of Blood Bayou,
Where only naive people
Even have the bravado to go.

Wrapping leafy tentacles
Around unsuspicious prey,
They sup upon vital fluids
To suck their very life away.

Only fire or axes scare them
And drive them slinking away,
Hunting for humans every night
Then hiding again each day.

THE END
© Copyright 2023 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia