October 23, 2009
Darkness reigns supreme,
Cloaking all in finite darkness.
Until a point of line crashes
Through bramble and bush,
Illuminating a craggy ledge.
Then the beam widens and trees,
The age old sentries of Mother Nature,
Come into sight.

A crystal blue lake and the surrounding fog
Is tinged in the purplish light.
Neither the fish nor the birds intrude upon
Natures' most sacred ground.
Only the moon sees,
But the moon will never tell.
Yet another came from the deep
Surrounding forest, born of wild blood
And cast in legend and myth.

Lifting her face to the moon
Her only companion
She waits...until
She is answered.
The moonlight begins to curl,
Ever so gently, around her,
Cloaking her in its silvery rays.
Bringing her dreams of thing that were seen
Long, long ago.
Of beings long gone from this world
And into afterlife.

Reminding her of her wild blood,
Setting her free of her human fetters,
And giving her back her joy and sense of peace!

Gratefully she lifts her face
Towards her rescuer, her eternal friend,
And sings.


Rings out into the night sky,
And any and everyone how hears
Can only stop what they're doing
And listen as
The werewolf sings.

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