And now I’m going to venture back into the macabre, dark poetry side for a moment. In this poem, I wrote about one of my favorite mythical beasts growing up, the werewolf. I grew up on movies like The Wolfman, The Howling, Silver Bullet, Wolf (Jack Nicholson), An American Werewolf in London, and Teen Wolf (Michael J. Fox). There are so many more, but I figured I’d name just a few of the classics. What type of hardcore fan would I be if I didn’t write a poem about a werewolf?
So with that said, here we go!
We are the wolves in the night
How did I wind up here covered in crimson?
I hear their howls but yet out of sight
What is this reality or, better yet, prison?
Taste of iron, not my blood
I howl at the moon to let them know I’m around
Why does my adrenaline flood
No longer human skin bound
The wolves steer clear, full of fear
Full moon, in their blood I bask
It is time to feast as I hear humans near
Killing everything in sight is my task
Split their sides wide open with my claws
Pick my teeth with their bones as the bloodlust thaws
Let me know what you think!
Thanks for reading!