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
Copyright © Roy Merritt | Year Posted 2016
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