(with an acknowledgement to Hawkwind)

The wind howls and shutters rattle
The villagers huddle close to their firesides
Outside ‘neath the cold bright moon
The night air stirs with foreboding

In the woods a scream of pain: anguish
The terror has begun, as always with the hair
The eyes grow dark soon to be glowing
The backbone arches and the sharp claws stretch

The hair is long and thick once more
The razor sharp claws gleam silver in the moonlight
The eyes now bright liquid pools of amber
The scream replaced by a howl to chill the blood

The victim knows his death only by the stench
The acrid reeking beast leaps through the air
A blurred mass of tangled hair and ripping claws
Then the teeth, the teeth that bring the end

Slinking away back to the forest trees
Slated and exhausted, hiding away ‘ til dawn
Sleeping neath the waning moon, dreaming:
The man in me would kill the wolf

The wolf in me would eat the man
Waking naked, dirty ashamed and fearful
The nails now short, the eyes now green
The hair in clumps around the feet

The man in me would kill the wolf
The villagers rise and curse the night
Laying to rest shredded remains
The wolf in me would eat the man

The hair will stay short, the nails trimmed
The eyes ever green and smiling
But the fear that rises once each month
Will rise again to bay at the moon and for blood


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