A ghost moon shines through clouds half existent
Through the lunatic grimace now etched upon air
This half-light enough to illuminate madness
On the face of tragedy, and the blood drying there
Bodies, which soon will succumb to decay
In a heartless pattern ‘round this figure of loss
As the voices of night begin to resume
And understanding dawns, with knowledge of cost
For, how does one slip into obscurity
When leaving such signs to scream of his where?
How can he hope to live in seclusion
When these things embedded inside him still flare?
Tears well as memories come creeping in
Forming cracks in the reasons to hold on
Sprouting the twisted vines of regret
Of a love now murdered, forever gone
Dawn sets in and persona transforms
Steam rises off skin amidst morning mists
Humanity encasing the monster within
Screaming outrage between trembling fists
More casualties surrounding him now
Adding to the tally of the nightmare before
That’s what they get for attempting to play God
Setting themselves up for what was in store
Enhancing the senses…genetic perfection
Not knowing what they were dealing with
Combining the souls of beast and man
Resulting in the birth of a monster of myth
Schizophrenia of a demonic nature
A mad wolf’s equivalent of Jekyll and Hyde
A man with nothing left to lose
On the run, with a murderous monster inside
Washing off blood now dried past congealing
In the river that flows through this new place of death
Memories replay of ****** and feasting
And stilling his only love’s final breath
Why did she think she could stop this new monster?
What did she think she was trying to prove?
The man then encased in the monstrous shell
Silently screaming, “Move, **** it! Move!”
The newly born werewolf controlling the scene
Obeying desires to **** and to feed
Not seeing a wife, a lover, or friend
Only fulfilling mad hunger’s dark need
And the need to be free of this confining place
Of unusual light and such falsified air
Escape now the only thought other than feasting
Back to the pack and the life he had there
Wandering the forest in the skin of his maker
Wondering just where it all went so wrong
Such perfect planning, but this wasn’t planned for
Seeing the fool he had been all along
Fame was not something he’d wanted or aimed for
All that he wanted was perfecting life
The Devil’s not in the intent, but the details
Of this fresh living hell found before afterlife
The flesh of the monster’s victims inside him
The remnants of blood still encased in his nails
The screams of the hunger, madness, and outrage
Begin to take over with the scent of the trail…
~
With agony twisting the limbs that it borrows
And pleasure consuming the soul that it steals
The wolf now emerges through flesh once confining
Regaining control of his nightmare ordeal
The pack is now closer than even the hunger
The freedom of family just over the rise
The hell he’s endured will so soon be all over
Now that he’s conquered the monster inside
The one who continually cut him and stabbed him
In the prison of strange light and falsified air
Then somehow becoming imprisoned inside him
But his greatest revenge is the monster’s despair
Feeling his pain as he killed his beloved
And all other monsters that kept him enslaved
Along with the monsters back down by the river
Who tried to reclaim him…oh, how they had paid!
All thoughts of escape and revenge now flee him
As the sounds of the pack now befall his ears
Something is wrong…they must be in danger
For their howling and growling hold hatred and fear
They’ve been on the run, but what has pursued them?
It can’t be more monsters from what he can tell
Maybe something far worse seeks to **** or enslave them
Though he detects nothing through sight, sound, or smell
Running like mad, he can finally see them
But, just as he gains, they all stop and they turn
Maybe their enemy followed behind him
But there, he finds nothing but sudden concern
Turning to face them again, he can see…
Just how can it be that he’s already there?
Facing himself from the head of the pack
Regarding himself with a murderous glare
Suddenly, from the monster inside him
Comes maddening laughter that cuts him like knives
“This whole time you’ve thought me the monster inside you,
But to them, you are more of a monster than I!
I had no idea I cloned your memories
Along with the rest before setting him free.
The real you is the one standing here before you,
And you’re just a monster to them! Can’t you see?”
But, before understanding can fully set in
The pack is upon him, and tearing away
Every thought but survival escapes him
As he begins causing his tormentors pain…
~
A ghost moon shines through clouds half existent
Through the lunatic grimace now etched upon air
This half-light enough to illuminate madness
On the face of tragedy, and the blood drying there
Bodies, which soon will succumb to decay
In a heartless pattern ‘round this figure of loss
As the voices of night begin to resume
And understanding dawns, with knowledge of cost
While maddening laughter still screams from within
As the monster who made him enjoys his despair
For now, everything they both have loved
Has been taken from them in this hell they now share
Tears well as memories come creeping in
Forming cracks in the reasons to hold on
Sprouting the twisted vines of regret
And a rage that blooms just like the dawn
Pain explodes within each monster
As the wolf begins to claw at his chest
Screams within and howls without
As one monster lays the other to rest
Though not a mercy killing, but ******
Inflicted by his suicide
For the only way to **** his maker
Is to **** the shell in which it hides
~
Shining through the door of his prison…
Through the steam now rising up through the air
Unnatural light illuminates madness
On the face of insanity, and the blood drying there
The patient, long since locked away
When all reality to him was lost
Had found a way to set himself free
Without understanding, or knowledge of cost
So slipping into obscurity
In this place of strange light and such falsified air
Losing himself to the nightmare delusion
He tore his own heart out to end his despair
Now, there are no tears to come creeping in
The cracks within reason are finally gone
There are no twisted vines of regret
For the monsters within him are finally gone
This is another idea I had for a novel I was never able to write. I began to write it in a condensed poetic form a few years ago, and it lay unfinished until now, much the same as it was with my poem "Thiever of Souls". Basically, this story was unfolding inside the mind of someone suffering from severe personality disorder, psychotic disorder, and schizophrenia. In his mind it was one "monster" killing itself to **** another, but in reality, it was himself ripping his own heart out, completely unaware of the delusion. I am not completely satisfied with this, so it may very well be subject to change.