The Pack...A werewolf poem
The mist covers the forest swirling
Through the trees they run
Their eyes glowing and teeth flashing
They won’t stop until the hunt is done
Paws striking the earth as the moon glows
The pack moves as a single force
The prey tonight just to slow
As nature takes it course
As one mind they attack
Dragging the vampire to the ground
The un-dead demon turning to face the pack
As the wolves circle around
With a roar they surge forward
Their bodies changing, fuelled with rage
Natures warriors forever altered
Impossible to stop or cage
Summoning dark power, the vampire lashes out
His magic slamming hard and fast
His denial loud in every shout
Knocking wolves back with every blast
But with no friend at his back
The un -dead was fighting a losing battle
As he faced the relentless were-wolf pack
His face twisted and hateful
As his cold flesh was ripped apart
The claws and jaws tearing
Destroying his demonic heart
The wolves’ voices high and howling
The moon hangs low above the trees
As the pack moves away running
Ever vigilant as natures sentries
Always hunting
© K.A.E Grove
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