Showing posts from September 5, 2012

The Werewolf

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,
“I am a werewolf, you must run away, Or your life’s road Will take the hell’s way. I beseech y…