The Looming Moon

THE LOOMING MOON By Roy Merritt The looming moon in the night A pale cold vision within my sight Staggering beauty it may be And I know I should surely flee For it is full perfectly round And soon enough that wretched sound That wretched sound that eerie howl And soon enough a frightful growl The lust for blood will soon arise And none about will be surprised For it is certain the lycanthrope Will feel its lure and then erupt And burst about upon the scene And do what it must that brutal fiend And with fangs flashing bright Will pursue its victims throughout the night Bringing death the very worse To fill its need its terrible thirst Neither neighbor nor greatest friend Can alter the beast that dwells within Within the soul the crushing sea The curse of this lycanthropy What shall be done what course to take Knowing this curse shall never break And so he shrinks within his cave And were it so it'd be his grave Forever free from this dreadful sight That once a month will incite Incite his soul to lurid deeds And all he encounters lies and bleeds Go away and come no more That looming moon I so abhor Free the one that comes each time That fosters blood like flowing wine Free him God from your heavenly doom And cast away that looming moon Free him God I do plea For the lycanthrope is 'er but me