The Legend of the Werewolf

The aged gypsy woman speaks,
A curses ancient spell, a dark ruins incantation,
From ages long ago,
Beneath the full moons illumination, a single red
Drop of human blood is spilt,
Upon the blossoming wolf bang, turning
It velvet shin to redden crimson.
Cruelties hatred and malice, has created
A beast that travels by night alone, underneath tragedies
Fallen sunrise this emotionally crippled animal
Pleads for mercy’s redemption, but it is the shunned
A banished unwanted thing of hell's domesticated
Breed!
Born with the devils marking, his birth right of the
Demonic plague, justifying torturers agonizing
Punishment making it a serial killer by moonlights
Entrapment!
Accursed is he from father to son, until the final seed
Has been made undone, for only the fresh bite of loves
Promised sacrifice, can release him from this fatal curse!
A whispers echoing, is carried upon the night winds
Screaming breathe, run son of the damned, never linger
Too long in this world of man, seek the sheltering shadows
Live by thy own basic instincts of survival, for nothing
Can save your forsaken soul!
Never to love, or be loved in return, for the claws of
Retraction will be the rippling at the throat of loves
Betrayal!
What a blood baths banquet to be served at your bridal
Celebration, the leavening of the intended served on the
Silver platter of regrets feasting table of remorse, beneath
The blackened chapel of the devil’s own kindred!
Within the castle walls that bleed, in the dungeons
Of sorrows cage, the beast of the fields howls at
The elliptical giant above, for it has killed its own
True love, and relished within the murdering!
As the gypsy's woman’s laughter, heckles at him,
The moonlight streams through his cells prison,
Enough you old hag, I’ve had enough,
Begging the jailer, to end his torment,
The man shape shifter, becomes the night stalker,
One single silver shot is fired, leaving
Nothing behind but smokes illusion,
And a hushed whispering of thankfulness,
Is the reprieve of generations of the unborn!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

adventureevilhalloweenholidayhorrorfree verse

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Poet Destroyer A

October 31, 2015 at 1:35 AM

Love it once again, LINDA

Gary Bateman

October 7, 2015 at 5:11 AM

Hello Fangoria!! Cheri, Another master hit here with your lycanthropic verbal delicacy so rendered. I noted with interest your visual stills from the Hammer Film "Curse of the Werewolf." Your verses depict with great interest your "Gothic Legend of Yore." A "Seven"!! I close with the Gypsy Woman from "The Wolfman" (1941): "The way you walk is thorny through no fault of your own, but as the rain enters the river, and the river enters the sea, so all tears run to their predestined end!" HH!! Gary

Vera Duggan

October 6, 2015 at 8:40 PM

OOOOh I do like this one Cheryl, scary and damn good, I am still waiting for that book on your work, take care my dear friend...Vera.

Poet Destroyer A

October 6, 2015 at 9:23 AM

Hi Cheryl, I thought it was going to be about my man. LOL... JK.... The legend of the werewolf. He makes a goods savage, knowing it kills its own. I'm actually watching a movie called "Dark was the night" I think the killer in the woods is the werewolf. I'm not sure yet. Anyways, I enjoyed the poem. I do hope you are well, and spend your vacation here with us. A forever Fan... LINDA

Poet Destroyer A

October 6, 2015 at 9:23 AM

PS... I have a new poem up. :)