Follow the Black Cat
Prowling over gray, crumbling stone walls—
Wandering past aged furniture draped in palls—
Tobias travels the lonesome, winding roads,
Quieting even the ugliest of toads.
His yellow eyes blaze like two burning jewels;
He haunts the minds of both sages and fools.
Madness and maladies are his curses,
And his chariots are dismal hearses.
This cat’s yowl precedes only doom;
Scarcely shall you spy him in the gloom.
Whether domestic brute or ravenous beast,
He shall, on your dismay and dread, always feast.
Follow him not lest you truly wish to see
Tragedies and horrors from which all shall flee.
Tobias has watched lifetimes wither unto dust,
And sweet-smelling homes’ scents transfigure into must.
Upon the petals of dried funeral flowers,
He walks with such silent and shadowy powers.
Only if you have felt the faint, flitting wing of a bat,
Might you feel quite compelled to chase and follow the black cat.
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