The howl should have warned me

but at first it did not register

that day so amazingly tranquil

now dusk filled the cloudless blue

no sun shone above my head

before this I should have fled!

Miles of moorland was the scene

freedom had a fresh meaning

sheep and ponies roamed freely

without interruption I carried on

then the illusion was shattered

when the animals scattered!

A violent blow struck my back

falling into the course grass

blood tainted the spot where I fell

it was mine I realised and the pain.

what had attacked me had gone

but it was vicious and strong!

I must have passed out now dusk

yet I was still alive but hurt

cold very scared oozing and sore

it was hard to actually move at all

again I heard that pitiful howl

or as I hoped only a lonely owl!

As darkness blanketed the moors

the moons glow lit up my path

now realising werewolves existed

those gashes in my flesh so sore

unable to go any further drained

somehow my sanity was maintained!

I awoke once more to warm daylight

how I progressed was just a blur

arriving at a clump of trees by a stream

there I saw a young naked woman

surprised to see me she sat quietly there

with a hidden dread could only stare!

Before I got near she turned and ran away

on the ground her torn clothes lay

many others there without any clothes to

as a knowing dread in me grew!

With loathing I wait for the next full moon!

The Foureyed Poet.

Published in: on 14/05/2010 at 13:01  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Reblogged this on The Foureyed Poet and commented:

    On the lonely moor he discovered werewolfs! The Foureyed Poet


  2. your poetry always tells such great stories


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