Wolf Totem

Beast blood tempts me, It's Will will bend me
Into something deadly; marionette with a frenzy
Carnivore smorgasbord; Saint of the Dread
An artist who, with his whole heart, paints with the red
At home in the undergrowth, where, with wonder, spoke
The locals of folk tales, sharp fangs and gun smoke
The monster of the moors, chilling howls, locked doors
Full moons spelling doom, clenched bowls and rot, gore!

Waking life is a haze but the night is crystal clear
Memories are faded tapestries, capricious cavaliers
I battle here, smell the breeze to quiet the torture tools
Catch the scent of young love, a pair of fortunes fools
Stomach pains have me gaining ground, barely a whispered sound
I see the girl with ocean eyes in which a single kiss could drown
The boy on bended knee, see's me, attempts to flee
But claws propel the jaws, seize a scream into a wheeze
Fair maiden makes a beeline for the treeline
She nearly makes it too, but heels aren't for swift climbs

Under lunar sunlight the glassy eyed gazes
Of fixed stares at the stars as if in amazement
The predator wipes his mouth; another demon's task is filled
Then he came to his senses, loped back to Baskerville