She's nowhere to be found,
while the sun's out to play,
while the children laugh,
while the people pray.
They call for her
but she's nowhere to be found,
except in her dark room,
asleep and sound.
The day goes on
and still she sleeps.
Not a word forms on her lips,
not even a peep.
Hours roll by
and not an eye was opened,
until the moon hung in a string
and it was like a spell was broken.
Like lightening in a storm
she hunted for her feast,
and her body began to change
into a nocturnal beast.
Her eyes start yellowing
and razor sharp teeth form at her lips.
She crawls on all fours
and her clothes start to rip.
She is unrecognizable
as her finger turn to paws
and right at the tip
are extremely sharp claws.
She can feel the aggression
and kills the innocent.
She can, and will, snap a spine
in just an instant.
She cannot stand
the beast within.
She wants to end her life
but cannot commit such sin.
Then she's off to the highest mountain
as fast as she can go
past lakes, so wide
and valleys, so low.
Finally she's there,
so close to the cliff.
She huffs and puffs,
and looks up stiff.
Her habits are nocturnal,
like that of a loving owl,
but as she stares at the thick, big moon,
She howls her blood curling, unheard howl.