The Wolves

The moon shines forth, full and bright
A shadowy outline appears in the night
A howl springs forth from grinning lips
And from the wolfen mouth, blood drips.

Another wolf answers the blood-curdling howl
All creatures flee, both beast and fowl.
More cries rise to the waxing moon,
A signal of destruction delivered soon.

They gather together in a ferocious pack
For no other reason than to press their attack
Against those they believe to be weak.
Then they laugh at the havoc they reek.

Thirsting for blood and hungering for meat
Lithely they tread on their fur-covered feet
To strike without warning, the human homestead
Which, by their leader, the pack was lead.

Then, without warning, the pack is gone.
Devastation and death, by the full moon, shown,
Leaving the strongest of the surviving men
To fear the time they will strike again.

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