On the lonely moor he discovered werewolfs! The Foureyed Poet

The Foureyed Poet

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…

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Published in: on 03/12/2014 at 21:47  Leave a Comment  

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