Werewolf

Hidden Moon

Somewhere there is a moon
that rises behind clouds,
and I am let loose,
released and unbound,
as the darkness ensues
racing through a pulse that must pound,
pound the rhythm that pursues
the silence within sound.

Venator

Your essence is the fire
that burns between suns,
for your prey to expire
beneath claws held as one.

You are the hunter.
You will crave the chase...
...until snows blanket summer
when you loose your own taste.
But your compulsion takes slumber
within the light of day
until the time you fall under
your bottomless gaze...

Gazing entranced
at the one you follow close
until you begin the dance,
of selecting your foes.
The stillness enchants
you to creep upon toes
until your game starts to prance
then you rely on your nose
and the scent of combat
as distances close.

You overpower everyone
who stands in your way
in the paths to Relativium,
between predator and prey.

Nothing satisfies your hunger
until all things lie still,
once you have fallen under
the thrill of the kill.

Your essence is the hunt
and of hungers within,
pursuing the setting suns
where the darkness begins.

When I walked home in the blood red soon.
Little did I know that my blood red wolf had found me.
When I was gaped in the dark night.
And when I was bathed in my own blood.
I was distant in the night.
I saw his figure coming, lean and ravenous.
Foam dripped from the mouth.
With my blood dripping daggers.
I cut them open, and how like an animal did the wolf pounce on me when I cut them up.
Under huge paws.
Did I crawl.
With a wolfs face carved into the moon.
Purple hands that did smoke as I plucked my steel away.
Did she but see a wolfs face carved on my own.
Poring white snow on her freckles,
For now her blood is painted on white perfections

Bark at the moon

Under the light of the full moon I change
I'm no longer me but a beast so strange
I can run so fast, I'm powerful and strong
Through dark woods all night I run
So alive now, under these stars I belong
I live to hunt and want to forever stay
To prowl, to hear, to smell, to kill my prey
Into fresh meat I want to sink my fangs
To rip, rend, to tear in wild a killing dance
In silvery light crimson blood I consume
And the beasts, wolves bark at the moon

Again, sorry the delay in choosing a winner. . .got broadsided with. . .stuff.  So on to the winner:

A BIG Congrats to KROSGOOD, not only were his entries, "Lycanthropic Winter Part I & II" stellar, the flow in rhyme was a spot on!

and Congrats to, No1, his "Bark at the moon", while short, was a great read.  Ozzy would be so proud!

And last, but never least, as I am grateful to the following Poets/Poetresses who entered but did not win:

IronFears
Cannaballester
CrowFly
NBathory
Harliequin
Fillenatrix
HadesRising
G_Lewis
ilovescarystories

Thank You!

Thank you! And congrats to the winner.