Skip to main content

The Werewolf

Image Courtesy: Google
He lurked in the night,
Under the moon’s gleaming face.
He hid himself not, though,
Instead came out in the moonlight.
The signifier of unknown terror,
Fierce and virile,
His chest rising and falling like a drum,
Belly flat like drum,
Eyes made of amber and ruby serum.
His life once was human,
Then his blood took offence with nature,
In the wild it ran freely,
And his body took its turn surely,
Fangs, fur and his head too,
Grew into a wolf’s.

A song rose from his heart, at times,
In blood’s significant rhythm,
And there was in his eyes,
A gleam and a shadow.
The gleam was love,
The shadow was a woman.

Her hairs floated in the night air,
Penetrating the chill of solemn despair.
The werewolf howled;
Jumped in front of her.
He neither touched her,
Nor his fangs tore her skin.
His eyes gleamed more,
Shading the full moon in the cold.
She looked at him in the eyes.
Her eyes too shared the golden gleam,
And he growled again,
Image Courtesy: Google

“I am a werewolf, you must run away,
Or your life’s road
Will take the hell’s way.
I beseech you.”
“I know you and you know me.
My heart’s strings sing for you in glee.
I am yours, give me hell,
If that price could buy peace for me.”

The woman’s words rang in the air,
With the blinking stars’ above,
And the fate so near.
The werewolf moved closer,
His arms bound around her hip.
In a tragic love’s final desire,
He kissed her on her lips,
And his fangs tore into her neck,
With the heat of her blood in his mouth,
And the shiver of her flesh in his arms,
He howled at the moon,
The cruel observer in the heavens.
Deathless the night witnessed,
Hopeless the heavens observed,
The deathless werewolf groaning in pain,
And the stars of his tears-
Glowing in hell.


you know could actually visualize things in front of your eyes as you read this ...thats the beauty of a poet ...Good work
A said…
Wow, did you write it?
cha said…
ah,deucedly mesmerizing###

Popular posts from this blog


Ancient Promises is Jaishree Misra's debut book with a fresh narrative voice in comparison with the other novelists of her time.
An unforgettable story, told in first person narrative, Ancient Promises combines in its narrative strategy, romance, myth and social criticism. Jane Austen succeeded in bringing irony in her novels, through interesting and poignant observations, which were most often witty as well. Taking the same line of novel-writing strategy, Jaishree Misra gives opportunity for readers to enjoy the book in multiple perspectives than just a single faceted love story.
Of course, Janu, the protagonist is the narrator and this is her story. However, this is also the story of Kerala and its marriage customs. Many irrational and unjust customs still exist in this southern land situated in India's south. Many European cultures have established trade relations with Kerala, even before the time of the British. But in the long run, it can also be observed that the nature …

Spam Luck

Our client is looking for 100 English writers; we could pay up to $10,000/month with bonuses for writers who deliver good content on a regular basis. No experience required. Payment via Paypal, Check, or a Bank Wire.
Mithun Vadakkedathu signed out. But he did not forget to mark the mail he just read as spam. He had been signing up in job sites and this has become his day job.
The previous week he had gone to the Parassinikadavu temple and paid for Vellaattam, the worship dance for pleasing Muthappan, the deity of Parassinikkadavu temple, the ancient God of the commoner.
He groped in his wallet which had holes inside and threads were coming off from its bottom. The outer layer of rexine was removed from many places by time.
Mithun took out three pieces of paper, three tickets: one red, one grey, one pale white in colour. He murmured; “O God, all my prayers, all the Vellaattam I paid for are gone without purpose. I must have done something terrible that I still do not know myself. Perhap…

DELHI IS NOT FAR BY RUSKIN BOND: A Love Story without Losses

“…and I know that this one lifetime, however long, cannot satisfy my heart” (111).
__ Ruskin Bond
The Commentator says; When it’s about love, some believe it’s natural to make mistakes. The truth is ‘mistakes’ and ‘love’ do not coexist. Mistakes are not love. Love is not a mistake. Before the book review, let me recount to you a love story flew by my life a couple of months back. As some of you know, I love blogging. As some others of you are well aware, more than blogging, I love the experience of writing. Blog or my other publishing ventures, this love for writing is at the core of it all. A couple of months before, I had thought of writing a review of the book Delhi is Not Far by Ruskin Bond, author of The Lamp is Lit. Opening a word document, I wrote the title of the book with the author’s name as a ‘clever’ appendage. Then I kept it to gather some inspiration and relevance. Then I forgot. To be more precise, I pushed the priority to love to another rather unimportant spot and, for…