The takeover

this poet is dangerous

appearing at my bedside

disguised as a shadow

shaking me like a rattle

telling me to get out of bed

for what? 3am the clock read

shivering in the cold

reaching for my robe

the sound of a 9mm unloads

somewhere down the road

on my feet can't find my shoes

the poet is smiling but I

am not amused

feeling like a puppet on a string

the music is playing

I do not feel like singing

the theme song

to this dream

as sirens hum along

the muffled screams

the beast just wants to be free

it's the black panther in me

clawing and scratching

at the pages turning words

into phrases and time

into ages

untamed and defiant

back to back

with a lion

fear is too afraid

to enter this house