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Every poet has dreamt
of this moment
since the beginning of time.
Though, unlike them,
I have not come to ponder
and pursue shadows.
Instead at the alter of the cosmos,
I’ll teach the beasts to dance
and make love to the galaxy.

All witchcraft & madness
and soft deadly kisses.
What I mean to say is;
In the cruel heart of winter
you will find me
alone on the cold balcony,
choosing the universe over man,
like Eve did before me.

It’s not only the Deities of Death
whom love apples..
I’ll sink these incisors
into anything forbidden,
anything at all.
C H Watson Jan 2015
Rampaging tiger, once gentle girl, spare us our lives!
Reduce us not to blood-spray with your lethal knives!
                   Lop                           not
                 our                              red                            
­               and                               raw                necks
             with your  wicked       and         brutal
            claws and glinting        wry   fangs!
          You                   are           kindly
        and               not a              bad
     monster      with a                sly
and         voracious                   gut!
                   Have                        for
                   our                           wet                        tears
              some                             wee                      pity!
        This                                      we beg, O rakshasa!
  Please,                                          remain vegetarian!
This poem is shaped like the Japanese character for death (死 ****) and is dedicated to my pal ShiftingTiger on! She happens to have been afflicted by some sort of teenage lycanthropy, so we try to give her moral support and vegetarian encouragement whenever possible.

— The End —