In the whisps of willows
Within a carnival of morbid curiousity
Amongst her pact she was devoured liked prey
She was left to whimper under a cold dark moon
she grew comfortable living a life one most unfortunate
in her mind of solitary gloom
Accepting her fate she looked up at the gods' from her stake where she lyed, her eyes conformed to the absence of any conforting light
She smiled at the heavans, and her burning flesh made her feel like a shooting star
She knew the end was near by the smell of the incineration of her bones turning into ash smelled like hot tar
Sprinkled like fairy dust upon the soil her remains became the air, her spirit resided through the wind
Her body nourished the growth of produce but her soul fell like seeds
Planting sprouts into stems
In her death she graced the land with life
Like a phoenix from the ashes of all that remains
There was unfinished business
Signed in excruciating torment and indescribable pain
The mother of all gifts to the world made a new breed unlike any other
This beautiful beast arose from a realm that she conjured from neither any great haven nor hell for in her final breath she recited her final spell
Grant me this she pleaded on her knees she begged the mighty with desperate please and they granted her a life free from disease
She could be reborn as any other species
Ariseing from her confines her paws planted on the earths surface she pulled up with her hind legs, and her birth into the world from that day became fabled lore
Of a life so precious,so unique ,draped in phantasm, enriched by the powder of her desecration
A story of magic in a world so tradgic a tale is the appeal of the very nature of wonders yet to explore
The nature of this beast of beauty is unlike any seen before
Now every full moon she poises herself upon the highest mountain, in the perfect place that in the echos of the howling share a harmonic infusion of melody and bass
She would claim this peak as her thrown and howl passionately into
The night, crashing upon every platonian shore
This howl! like that of a raven radiated a message into the hearts of the wikedly strange that we may not all find serenity, but all life knows pain
Quoth the WereWolf NeverMore


© Christopher j. Jarman