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THE LEGEND OF THE WEREWOLF

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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

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 10/31/2015 1:35:00 AM
Love it once again, LINDA
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Date: 10/7/2015 5:11:00 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
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Date: 10/6/2015 8:40:00 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.
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Date: 10/6/2015 9:23:00 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
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Date: 10/6/2015 9:23:00 AM
PS... I have a new poem up. :)
Date: 10/5/2015 11:10:00 PM
Cheri chilling to the bone!!!
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Date: 10/5/2015 8:58:00 PM
I love your poems. There so deep. Hope your weekend was nice.
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