Werewolf’s End

BY DR. AGONSON

My coat is hidden underneath pink skin.
The full moonlight unveils my blackened sin.
Snarling hunger behind a smile
will this very night consume the child.
She picked her flowers by the lane this morn,
their budding beauty growing without thorn
to defend the precious youth’s lovely charms
from eternally grasping outstretched arms.
In darkened shadows I espied the maid
bending over some wooded roadside glade.
Cloaked in crimson scarlet she wandered on
searching over the forest’s mossy lawn.
Ever by her side was my crouching form,
till she wandered into the fields of corn
where dainty foot found an end to its path.
Now I eagerly wait, wasting in fast,
for the little one to make her way home.
Then she will find that we are all alone.
Out of grandma’s house she enters my realm.
Howling I charge her, but am overwhelmed.
Behind the dame comes a woodsman’s steel ax.
Swung through the air it cleaves my skull like wax.

 

Listen to my beautiful voice:

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