The crisp-cut, full moon hung high in the sky,
Staring down upon him like a demon eye.
Through the foliage a column of moonbeam fell,
Pinning him in its center as a scream did expel,
Reverberating and echoing like a tolling bell.
Unknowing if it came from him or another,
He stood stock still, repressing a shudder.
At that moment on the outer edges of his sight
City light filtered through the trees like blight on the night,
Neither bettering or worsening his situation, place nor plight.
Forever followed by a malevolent being,
One so inconspicuous, rendering others unseeing.
Fear frozen, he listened, felt and silently stood,
Unable to tread and thread through the wood;
Though, with its open passage, anyone could.
Desolation and depression then danced in his head
Like the dust motes within the moonshine overhead;
Their swirl and twirl did hypnotized and hinder
Bringing forth his dark, death harbinger,
One composed of an inner specter.
Since flight proved futile, his pursuer closer than his heel,
He abruptly decided to embrace the ground and kneel.
Within his consciousness there was a drastic upheaval;
A sudden exhumation of pure, long-dead evil.
The metamorphosis complete; purity lost the fight.
He then strolled down toward the city light.