On Wolf's Head as summer's rounds were nearly past,
I saw a furred beast whose bones were surely vast,
With a running blast, it sure went so fast.
Waiting in the half-light--
I searched for bright eyes that burned the night;
the flash of fangs that ripped the air---
the scent of blood dripping from its lair...
I felt a warm summer breeze in the night
and saw the full moon high above like a flying kite.
Upon reflection, I could not ignore
the fact of its formidable bite!
I gaze into the yellow moon
without fear and without doom.
Then I throw back my head
and release a howl that would wake the dead.
The summer breeze is mild,
It carries our musk so wild
The stars above are heavenly bright,
The present moment feels so right.
Wondering how and why they bleed?
And with the Moon's beguiling light,
be inevitably drawn into darker plights?
And later when I want to feed, I will not pause
to think or to read,
but rend and tear and ravage and breed
and live to solely feed, feed, feed!
Tonight I'm the hunter,
For hours I'll wander,
Fresh meat I'm craving,
Fresh meat I'm having!
Intent on blood is my misbehaving
while mortal man stands disbelieving;
with news travelling round about the lives that I'm stealing...
Water invades the footprints I'm leaving,
drink if you must now that reason is swirling
around the darkness that surely is filling
the channels of this carnal unveiling!
And when the ripping's done I turn
back into a mere human again,
lumbering back into my domain,
to nurse my mind and begin to tame,
the ravings of one gone quite insane,
Oh, a werewolf's plight is filled with pain!
In my world you can't fully understand
all the power that I command.
Yet those with wings
who bite the neck
and fly at dusk
we don't respect.
At war are we, at war with them,
those who resemble the bats' brethren!
They too come at night, when we're on the prowl....
so we frighten them with our magnificent howls!
Adept they seem at what they do, but so are we;
the me and you...and more frightening, I'll bet my tail;
they see the Sun and how they wail!
But we do not shiver from the light, we carry on in plain old sight.
As human, dog or some incarnation, why we're well known and as such; fixations.
We lead the legends and the lore; the oldest tales are none that bore.
The old sages, they speak of man, of the stories and all his stages. How before he walked upright,
he ran, on all fours, nay more wolf or horse?

On Wolf's Head as summer's rounds were nearly past,
I saw a furred beast whose bones were surely vast,
With a running blast, it sure went so fast.
Waiting in the half-light--
I searched for bright eyes that burned the night;
the flash of fangs that ripped the air---
the scent of blood dripping from its lair...
I felt a warm summer breeze in the night
and saw the full moon high above like a flying kite.
Upon reflection, I could not ignore
the fact of its formidable bite!
I gaze into the yellow moon
without fear and without doom.
Then I throw back my head
and release a howl that would wake the dead.
The summer breeze is mild,
It carries our musk so wild
The stars above are heavenly bright,
The present moment feels so right.
Wondering how and why they bleed?
And with the Moon's beguiling light,
be inevitably drawn into darker plights?
And later when I want to feed, I will not pause
to think or to read,
but rend and tear and ravage and breed
and live to solely feed, feed, feed!
Tonight I'm the hunter,
For hours I'll wander,
Fresh meat I'm craving,
Fresh meat I'm having!
Intent on blood is my misbehaving
while mortal man stands disbelieving;
with news travelling round about the lives that I'm stealing...
Water invades the footprints I'm leaving,
drink if you must now that reason is swirling
around the darkness that surely is filling
the channels of this carnal unveiling!
And when the ripping's done I turn
back into a mere human again,
lumbering back into my domain,
to nurse my mind and begin to tame,
the ravings of one gone quite insane,
Oh, a werewolf's plight is filled with pain!
In my world you can't fully understand
all the power that I command.
Yet those with wings
who bite the neck
and fly at dusk
we don't respect.
At war are we, at war with them,
those who resemble the bats' brethren!
They too come at night, when we're on the prowl....
so we frighten them with our magnificent howls!
Adept they seem at what they do, but so are we;
the me and you...and more frightening, I'll bet my tail;
they see the Sun and how they wail!
But we do not shiver from the light, we carry on in plain old sight.
As human, dog or some incarnation, why we're well known and as such; fixations.
We lead the legends and the lore; the oldest tales are none that bore.
The old sages, they speak of man, of the stories and all his stages. How before he walked upright,
he ran, on all fours, nay more wolf or horse?
And travellers that speak of tales from the wintery North,
of men who draw the fury of ravenous beast forth.
Forth from within them, forth from the earth,
Only, when their battle's done, to rest by the hearth.
What truths do these tales leave us, nestled in time?
What is revealed in ancient sagas' epic rhymes?
What truth is there in a madman's crime?
Of how the flesh of another man was disolved by enzymes?
Every twenty-eight days is a viscous cycle,
Turning one into a monster most vile,
But that's only what the unformed think while
I run free and through the woods sidle.

Yet human emotions run surely too vast,
entrenched with them may cause one to crash
and down we will sink as if crushed by the mast!
Better to run free though beastly and coarse
then act like a human from passions divorced...

On Wolf's Head as summer's rounds were nearly past,
I saw a furred beast whose bones were surely vast,
With a running blast, it sure went so fast.
Waiting in the half-light--
I searched for bright eyes that burned the night;
the flash of fangs that ripped the air---
the scent of blood dripping from its lair...
I felt a warm summer breeze in the night
and saw the full moon high above like a flying kite.
Upon reflection, I could not ignore
the fact of its formidable bite!
I gaze into the yellow moon
without fear and without doom.
Then I throw back my head
and release a howl that would wake the dead.
The summer breeze is mild,
It carries our musk so wild
The stars above are heavenly bright,
The present moment feels so right.
Wondering how and why they bleed?
And with the Moon's beguiling light,
be inevitably drawn into darker plights?
And later when I want to feed, I will not pause
to think or to read,
but rend and tear and ravage and breed
and live to solely feed, feed, feed!
Tonight I'm the hunter,
For hours I'll wander,
Fresh meat I'm craving,
Fresh meat I'm having!
Intent on blood is my misbehaving
while mortal man stands disbelieving;
with news travelling round about the lives that I'm stealing...
Water invades the footprints I'm leaving,
drink if you must now that reason is swirling
around the darkness that surely is filling
the channels of this carnal unveiling!
And when the ripping's done I turn
back into a mere human again,
lumbering back into my domain,
to nurse my mind and begin to tame,
the ravings of one gone quite insane,
Oh, a werewolf's plight is filled with pain!
In my world you can't fully understand
all the power that I command.
Yet those with wings
who bite the neck
and fly at dusk
we don't respect.
At war are we, at war with them,
those who resemble the bats' brethren!
They too come at night, when we're on the prowl....
so we frighten them with our magnificent howls!
Adept they seem at what they do, but so are we;
the me and you...and more frightening, I'll bet my tail;
they see the Sun and how they wail!
But we do not shiver from the light, we carry on in plain old sight.
As human, dog or some incarnation, why we're well known and as such; fixations.
We lead the legends and the lore; the oldest tales are none that bore.
The old sages, they speak of man, of the stories and all his stages. How before he walked upright,
he ran, on all fours, nay more wolf or horse?
And travellers that speak of tales from the wintery North,
of men who draw the fury of ravenous beast forth.
Forth from within them, forth from the earth,
Only, when their battle's done, to rest by the hearth.
What truths do these tales leave us, nestled in time?
What is revealed in ancient sagas' epic rhymes?
What truth is there in a madman's crime?
Of how the flesh of another man was disolved by enzymes?
Every twenty-eight days is a viscous cycle,
Turning one into a monster most vile,
But that's only what the unformed think while
I run free and through the woods sidle.
My human/wolf heart beats so very fast
while running through trees, twigs and grass.
I wish this feeling would always last
like our memories of ancestors from the past.
Yet human emotions run surely too vast,
entrenched with them may cause one to crash
and down we will sink as if crushed by the mast!
Better to run free though beastly and coarse
then act like a human from passions divorced...
And as we run free
not knowing the limits to are speed,
we howl and bark,
living with the dark.
some may say darkness is evil when it could be light,
and others are more afraid of the light.