Werewolf
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Just outside his window,
moonlight turns the pounding rain
¦¦ into gems that glitter on the grass
Crouching, with his face
mere inches from the lower pane,
¦¦ he fogs up the bottom of the glass
He's been acting strangely
for at least a week or two
¦¦ Now, the pieces start to fall in place
While he is fixating on what he's about to do,
¦¦ grotesque changes flicker on his face
Suddenly, he shakes with pain, the likes he's never felt,
¦¦ next, awakes beside the garden path
where, revived by spikes of rain that drive into his pelt,
¦¦he comes back alive... a psychopath
Abstract thoughts identify a full moon as the cause
¦¦ for the transformation he's come by
Driven mad by hands and feet that flatten and sprout claws,
¦¦he lets out a howl that spans the sky
In due time, he's acclimated to
his altered state,
¦¦ steady now, enough to leave the trees,
he heads to a town that he has visited of late,
¦¦where he will begin his blasphemies
Upon his arrival, he is met with blinding lights
¦¦ Townsfolk holding torches in the air!
Shouldering their muskets, several have him in their sights
¦¦ but the danger doesn't come from there
He has caught the scent of one who sits some feet apart
¦¦ Someone who has got a proper gun
BANG! A single shot, then molten silver hits his heart
¦¦ and his reformation has begun
As he writhes and howls, the townfolk move in gingerly,
¦¦ peering past thick clouds of grainy smoke
Having slain a monster, they are stunned by what they see -
¦¦ They've gunned down an ordinary bloke!
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2021
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