The pale sickly boy bursts through the thick foliage of the woods
His heart racing, face-blazing, eyes bulging out of their sockets
And then it begins…
The moon, the boy thinks slowing, It … It exudes
Magnificence in the palest of lights, every crater like ancient golden pockets
With a cry of anguish, he is no longer man
Body splitting, tearing at the line between two realities
Soft pink flesh turning into coarse fur
Teeth turning into razor-sharp fangs
The creature lies there panting; there is no need for formalities
The boy now knows the creature well, but his colliding memories become a blur
The wolf a feral rag doll as its beastly head hangs
Hunger drips down its murderous maw and the wolf feels nothing
Humanity has been ripped from his every vein
Bloodlust is all that fills the hole
The beast runs up a knoll covered in soft spring grass, ferocity still plenty
The red ferrous liquid invites the creature down making it grueling to keep sane
Instinct says it must pilfer souls, commit a theft, and break what was once whole
Treading menacingly through the village, a wild demon
Innocent people seal themselves into useless wooden homes, ready to repent
Their fear all-encompassing, like a lamb before the slaughter
The wolf’s ears ***** with the soft thud of its paws, feeling the earth underneath weaken
A yearning, the creature drools at the thick scent
A thing of nightmares left alone with a poor man’s daughter
The inner war within the beast gains a new thunderous beat
The boom ripping at the soul
The boy had always felt that his human life was his reality
But nothing had ever felt more real than his nights as a beast
No longer able to tell the difference, he sinks into that endless black hole
Pondering darkly upon his morality
Disgusted by his own attempt at brutality
The boy turns away from his panic-stricken prey, frozen in place, praying to blackout
He has to make a decision, to do what must be done
The next full moon, during his transformation, he experiences a sense of finality
They feel a change, a shift in power, no longer any doubt
The boy and the creature lay down their spears, let go of any fears as the forest goes silent with the sound of the shotgun
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
The pale sickly boy bursts through the thick foliage of the woods
His heart racing, face-blazing, eyes bulging out of their sockets
And then it begins…
The moon, the boy thinks slowing, It … It exudes
Magnificence in the palest of lights, every crater like ancient golden pockets
With a cry of anguish, he is no longer man
Body splitting, tearing at the line between two realities
Soft pink flesh turning into coarse fur
Teeth turning into razor-sharp fangs
The creature lies there panting; there is no need for formalities
The boy now knows the creature well, but his colliding memories become a blur
The wolf a feral rag doll as its beastly head hangs
Hunger drips down its murderous maw and the wolf feels nothing
Humanity has been ripped from his every vein
Bloodlust is all that fills the hole
The beast runs up a knoll covered in soft spring grass, ferocity still plenty
The red ferrous liquid invites the creature down making it grueling to keep sane
Instinct says it must pilfer souls, commit a theft, and break what was once whole
Treading menacingly through the village, a wild demon
Innocent people seal themselves into useless wooden homes, ready to repent
Their fear all-encompassing, like a lamb before the slaughter
The wolf’s ears ***** with the soft thud of its paws, feeling the earth underneath weaken
A yearning, the creature drools at the thick scent
A thing of nightmares left alone with a poor man’s daughter
The inner war within the beast gains a new thunderous beat
The boom ripping at the soul
The boy had always felt that his human life was his reality
But nothing had ever felt more real than his nights as a beast
No longer able to tell the difference, he sinks into that endless black hole
Pondering darkly upon his morality
Disgusted by his own attempt at brutality
The boy turns away from his panic-stricken prey, frozen in place, praying to blackout
He has to make a decision, to do what must be done
The next full moon, during his transformation, he experiences a sense of finality
They feel a change, a shift in power, no longer any doubt
The boy and the creature lay down their spears, let go of any fears as the forest goes silent with the sound of the shotgun