Instinct/passionA Poem by BAtkinsA poem about passion and animal instinct.Dusk bled into the night, The moon showed itself, Like a spot light, Singling him out, It started out slow, Subtle, The hair on his neck stood up, Began spreading like wildfire down his back, His blood burned his veins, The reflection of the moon boiling it, His skin rippled slightly, Then stretched drastically, His mouth and nose merging, He dropped to his knees, Shrieking, A sound so eerie, The creatures of the night, Shuttered with terror. His skin ripped as his ears came to a point, Now on all fours he settles in, As the hair covers the rest of his Bulging body, The screams turn gradually, Gracefully, to a bone chilling howl, He sniffs the air, His chomps, Dripping, With saliva, His eyes look hungry, And absent of soul, But yet human. They’d been together a few months, He hadn’t told her, He thought he could control it, He thought they could be together, It only took a minute or two for the change, Paralyzed with fear, She couldn’t flee, She let out a scream that would curdle a normal mans blood, So afraid; Her instincts hid behind her tears, Blurred by her shaking, Leaving her standing helpless, The park was empty, No one to hear her cries, No one to rescue her, Her prince, The one she fell for, The one who held her, The one she loved, He was supposed to protect her, Keep her safe, He looked deep into her eyes, Licked his lips, Not in lust this time, But in hunger, She couldn’t scream anymore, Her voice had left. He loved her, That’s why he kept it a secret, He didn’t want to lose her, She never had a chance, He left the ground, Striking her shoulders with his paws, His claws dug deep into her skin, Peeling it off her body, The scent of fresh blood, Tingled his senses, Only making him grow more violent, He stood hunched over her on all fours, She made eye contact again, She could see him trapped behind the beast’s eyes, A glint of sorrow, Masked by pure evil, His teeth penetrated her throat, Ripping and tearing, Her throat gargled with blood. He snapped her neck, Her body went limp, He paused for a moment. His fur matted with the blood of his lover, Lifting his head to the moon, He howled, There was sadness in the howl, Not violence, A tear forced its way out of one eye, He knew what he was doing, But his instinct was to strong to fight, He continued feeding. Once he got his fill, He lay next to his kill, Resting for the night, He didn’t leave her side, The warmth of the morning sun woke him, He was naked, Stained crimson, He looked at her lifeless, shredded body And broke down, In more pain then the night before, His chest tightened with every breathe. Her body was stripped of all her organs, Except for one, He left her heart. © 2010 BAtkinsAuthor's Note
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