A Werewolf's Short Tale

It is fair to say that my life in the day
is hardly as busy as my night

As the sun sets low, the energy will flow
as my fangs long for a bite


Delicious odors reveal it is time for a meal,
granted from a gory death

A thick fur fills in and my toothy grin
is accented with putrid breath


An unsettling howl marks my time for the prowl
for pursuing a rich feast

A local sheep herd can provide tastes preferred
for the tongue of any beast


An old widow and her dog walk alone in the fog
feeling secure from danger

I crept slowly near, filling the shadows with fear
of a murdering stranger


In a brutal attack I ripped the spine from her back,
all for a succulent treat

The canine was tasty but I had to be hasty
as I gorged on his tender meat


Aching for sleep and bones buried deep,
I slumber for nearly two hours

Awake before dawn to stretch and yawn
in a bed of blood covered flowers


My mind unclear while I started to tear
as I stood naked in a public place

All covered in dirt when I found my shirt
and wiped flies from my face


I staggered home, started writing this poem
as my memory slowly returned

So stay home at dark, don't walk in the park
and treasure this lesson learned