And with this toast on Halloween
A creepy drink of black and green
The smoke that rambles witches’ brew
Will find its way to capture you
For as you sip this wolves’ delight
Upon this most unworldly night
You may begin to understand
The taste of leg and arm and hand
It takes not much to feel the change
And then to know what else is strange
When you can touch your hairy chin
The mangled teeth contained within
Too late to drop this cup of fear
The urge to hunt and kill is here
Lycanthropy is very real
The moon is full of your first meal
If I was going to design my own society, I would have to take into account
The fact that I have always dreamed of a society that was lycanthropic.
Which means we would be humans by day, and freedom flying happy werewolves by night.
Loyal carnivores, who take care of our young, athletic, and amazingly psychotic.
I have always liked the idea of having a fluffy tail, and a wooded home.
And I enjoy the idea of running amok over bogs, meadows, woods, and briars,
But I also enjoy having human paws small enough to type up a lycanthropic poem.
And the pyromaniac part of my self could not give up my beautiful bonfires.
During the day, we would enjoy our human bodies, wearing our hair in different colors.
But this new civilization will be as ruthless as it needs to be at night, fully dope.
In both bodies, we will retain our families – our brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers.
The most exciting part of my plan, is that we can eventually choose to always be a furry canthrope.
Lycanthrope: a werewolf
Lycanthropy: the power of a human to turn into a wolf
Lycanthropic: A lycanthropic event
With the Supermoon in the night sky,
the magnetic field pull, powerful,
lone wolf steps from the dark shadows,
no longer enduring the torment of lycanthropy.
Her transformation into the supernatural,
makes her a natural huntress,
killer instincts, humanoid
hazel eyes bright like stars.
A ferocious animal in her fur-coat,
a camouflage to her prey, muscular
jaws drool frothy saliva,
fangs sharp like razor,
detrimental to human flesh,
one wicked bite draws blood, sinew and gore.
When the hunt is over, the feast demolished,
a true wolves' heart's a mischievous spirit,
she sits on her hind legs and,
a chorus of howling begins,
howling at the round face moon
ahooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Under the rare Supermoon,
lone wolf runs barefoot with the midnight pack.
Folk lore tells us that
Characteristically
Lycanthropy is
To be wolf like, and
To assume the magical
Ability to change
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-2.php
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