07 Feb 2017

The room is lit in hues of pale orange

The silence is shattered by a creaking door hinge

Wrestling the sheets she’s frantic in her nightmare

Gasping for air she can sense his evil glare.

Running through the forest she trips and falls

In the distance she hears the werewolf’s call

Scared to the bone she can’t move a muscle

Her brain tells her, move, quick, get up, hustle.

She runs blindly along, willed by sheer persistence

Her will to survive, he admires with utmost reverence

Fast as she can she moves through the night

Last thing she remembers is his stinging bite.

She awakes in her bed weak and worn

Scared and confused she looks at her bed clothes all torn

Her heart races fast she collapses in a faint

Awaking a little later her arm is bound tight in a restraint.

Fighting a fever is her nightly plight

Never awake long enough to see the bright light

Her eyes become dull, listless and dead

‘Her body is changing’ she’s heard it been said.

Twenty eight days later her fever has broken

Unto the bright moon her inner demon has awoken

She hears them howling and runs to her kind

Bonded forever, for upon a human body they’ve dined.