blue-eyed midnight

* This has become a fave genre for me, as I’ve always been fascinated by metamorphosis and introspection of a shadowy nature … I hope you enjoy it. * ~ ruin of me … what was once a bloom of promise has become a wilderness of horrors all for the sake of your pearly light, strewn that cornflower eye that you open wide but once a month … in my wistful youth, I dreamt of your enchantments - what dark-edged demon were you looking for that needed the bright of your full gaze? you, a black-skinned cyclops searching this orb for the spell might set it free … was that it, I mused? each full face of the moon - were you hoping for your liberty and occasion to dance with the stars? how could I have known in my callow curiosity? how could I have envisaged such a diabolical truth? it was ME you were searching for - the chance to turn my blood to molten metal my teeth to daggers and my body to a fiend of the moors - twisted, powerful as an oak and thirsting for flesh … you, Luna are the pearl of night - the maiden of mysteries and magic, dark the recreant lover of lycanthropy - bane of my breath and sweet salt of my doom ages-times-ages ago the vernal lad I was wandered the high fells, lost - dropped sleeping under a copse of cedars and awakened to the gentle bite of a broad, beautied canid (your maidservant) sable, with eyes of fire opal the blue sheen of your vaulted gaze daubing her fur like dew … she had no intent of devouring me no sense of animus at all just PURPOSE - purpose beyond my grasp but the wait to discover just that, was not long … now - now you stare like a harlot these rare nights just to see my monstrosity - to behold the wonder of your accursed creation - the genesis of genocide and guilt that pierced the heart of a wee boy of chastity rife with hope and promise then charred his dreamy aspirations with veins of fire and a conflagration of his marrow … I … am the damned … in your sight - your blue-eyed midnight - is where the man of me ends and the beast begins you, passion’s pain who stirred my stripling soul robbed me of my god and flames my coursings … even now. For the “1258 New Poem Only Poetry Contest”, Brian Strand Judge/Sponsor.