The
Curse
By: David Frazier
Abandoned
Towers look out over the moor
The
thick fog rolls in from the sea.
The
curse of the werewolf in my veins
When
the Wolf Bane blooms.
I
howl at the full moon
Soon
I'll come after you.
The
pentagram appears on your hand
Means
you're next to die.
The
transformation is almost complete
Hair
grows thicker, I'm up on my paws.
I
drool and gnarl as I take flight
Creeping
silently through the night
Hunting
for you.
Face
to face, I attack
Blood flows from wounds deep.
Stop me now, if you can
Use pure silver, pierce my skin.
Bullets silver hit vital organs
I can have eternal peace.
But
another I have bitten
Will take my place,
When
the moon is full again.
©
David Frazier