Moon Call

The moon calls to me,

It sings through my veins.

My wolf soul howls in joy,

The loving pain.

 

My pulse rate quickens,

As the moon thickens.

The wolf in me stirs,

As my vision blurs.

 

The body shifts,

One of the moon’s greatest gifts.

A wolf appears,

As the magic clears.

 

Eyes of gold,

Can see into the soul.

A soul of the wolf,

Is a sight to behold.

Reviews

[Lovecraft]

Beautifully done, my friend. I love Wolves and the very idea of them. They are the ideal pack hunters and majestic predators. All in all, nice poem. I feel the connection you have with these beautiful creatures. ;)

[Clouded in Hopeful Illu..]

It would be interesting to see the contrast or the joining of the two consciousness of the human and the wolf. Do they both find joy in this change? Does one find it harder than the other to give way to the shared body? Does one find the need to take over more often? Does the human constantly have to struggle to keep the wolf soul at bay? What does the human feel as the shift beings to take place? Is it a sigh of relief to be able to let go of the struggle and just let the wolf take over and forget everything else?
Just food for thought.

=YourMidnightSecret=