Apple doesn't like listing me as "Will Shakespeare (poetry blogger)"
to differentiate me from the other guy, although everybody else does.
They took my first book but now won't take new ones. (Go figure.)
Since Smashwords distributes my books to Apple anyway,
just go to my Smashwords author page and download EPUBs from there.
Smashwords provides samples of my books also.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Dogged by the Curse 01

A milky-white moon glows peacefully above
While, deep within my cave, I wait
With manacles around my feet and iron bars
I hope will keep the beast confined.
They mustn't fail me, not again…
But they do. I'm loose and running free.

The crisp autumn air invigorates me
As I lope along the river path.
I pause to sniff the air, searching for prey.
The village is safely beyond the woods,
Too far away to respond
Should my victims manage a cry.

Ah, there! I scent them – strong, healthy, evil.
I feel that familiar rush; my fur stands on end
And the man I once was steps back, ashamed.
I don't care. I am hunger, nothing more.

The overlook is secluded and
The men I kill all deserve death –
Brigands who lay in wait for innocents.
Perhaps it's the stench of blood on their hands
That draws me to their hiding place
But somehow I know where they are.
Despite my bulk, despite the rustling leaves
When I approach, they don't seem to notice,
So intent are they on their approaching
Victims. I know because I see
The shock in their eyes as I fall on them
From behind and they spin to face me,
Voices mute from a choking fear.
They'll never alert their victims to my presence.

I sniff their bloodlust in the air,
Pungent and savory; their fear
Is a warm sweet wine I can't refuse – raw
Passion, swirling in my mouth,
Pouring thickly over my tongue.
Their wickedness is intoxicating;
I am drunk, then ravenous,
Then finally satisfied.
I trot back to my lair and sleep till morning.

A milky-white moon glows peacefully above
While their intended victims pass by,
Unharmed, unknowing, safe because they're
Much too bland for my heightened palate.
Milk is for the lambs, not the wolf.

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