THE LOOMING MOON

A Poem by R. A. Merritt

A poem about werewolves

THE LOOMING MOON

By R. A. Merritt

The looming moon in the night

A pale cold vision within my sight

Staggering beauty it may be

And I know I should surely flee

For it is full perfectly round

And soon enough that wretched sound

That wretched sound that eerie howl

And soon enough a frightful growl

The lust for blood will soon arise

And none about will be surprised

For it is certain the lycanthrope

Will feel its lure and then erupt

And burst about upon the scene

And do what it must that brutal fiend

And with fangs flashing bright

Will pursue its victims throughout the night

Bringing death the very worse

To fill its need its terrible thirst

Neither neighbor nor greatest friend

Can alter the beast that dwells within

Within the soul the crushing sea

The curse of this lycanthropy

What shall be done what course to take

Knowing this curse shall never break

And so he shrinks within his cave

And were it so it'd be his grave

Forever free from this dreadful sight

That once a month will incite

Incite his soul to lurid deeds

And all he encounters lies and bleeds

Go away and come no more

That looming moon I so abhor

Free the one that comes each time

That fosters blood like flowing wine

Free him God from your heavenly doom

And cast away that looming moon

Free him God I do plea

For the lycanthrope is 'er but me

© 2014 R. A. Merritt

Author's Note

Of all the movies or read about these mythical creatures they always seem to filled with regret at what they have become.

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Dead

Impressive, you turned a cliche topic into something quite profound with descriptive flair, not florid, or garish, with sensory detail that abets a connotative sorrow, and a flow unhindered by any lack of adroitness. You have skill, and are deserving of merit: And truly, it is a pleasure to find such a pleasantly surprising read. Thank you.