Snarkstitutes! The Poltergeist, the Qareen & the Roc

Beasts -- slews! -- I've bled (from few I've fled)
down days since bread's been sliced. 
Still, bless my soul, my best damn role..?
Oppress the poltergeist.

(Loud noise you hear by night...? I fear

'tis poltergeists, by Christ!) 

That God is great I'll not negate;

my dogmal slate is clean.

And still my quest's to quash, sans rest, 

the Qabalah's qareen.

(Great care I'll take, for heaven's sake:

you ne'er know where it's been.) 

Dad hunted gnu. His runts did, too,

like chips off olden blocks.

Those days...? Long gone. Fresh crises spawn 

my raids upon twin rocs:

The female swipes Pa's corncob pipes; 

the male Ma's mincemeat mocks.

Snarkstitutes! Nessie & Ouroboros

Aren't you my liege...? Your job...? Lay siege 

(an act oblige noblessey) --

to spray a toxin o'er the lochs 'n' 

nail that noxious Nessie. 

(Make sure the bane's a potent strain,

lest matters moot turn messy.) 

Egyptian priests deplore such beasts.

Greek Plato joins their chorus. 

Old Norse do, too (as we do...nu...?):

All'd oust the Ouroboros,

who'll rancid gas dish out (alas!)

as well as tiresome tsorus.