Winter Wolves

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
i watched american werewolf in london and wrote.

Submitted: December 05, 2011

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Submitted: December 05, 2011

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Inside the timber, in seasons of chill,

bone drying cold attracts the rapacious.

Dark night's shadows, apparitions of wraith,

the hidden eyes of specters watching…

palisade and smother the environment.

Whispering that stains- the mind's corners, voyeurs-

lucent irides of indefinite_beasts crawling over soul's skins…

waiting in balance for the moment of vivid mutilation.

Teeth drunk in the flesh and blood, in the soma and life.

A black canines' esoteric feast, pregnating with sin.

Down the spine, breath paralyzes, a chill to freeze.

Immobilized heart, ruthlessly torn apart.

Jaws of thorn- tear gore into the Aire.

the town's bell and siren reverberating- through woods

racing- over echoes of shrieks into the plains.

"La malédiction de la lune, le loup-garou, est ici."

Alerting the denizens of the area and

Hoping for redeeming the next victim- of this sin.

"Une nouvelle personne se tourne vers la vie de péché,

perdu dans la lune"

"Ils te suivent. Ils me suivent."

"Personne ne quitte ces bois."


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