Werewolves on the prowl
in the cemetaries
that are your memories,
eating corpses with a howl.
A witch lit by a full blood moon
skates across the black, silver speckled lake
and cackles slate curses upon the whisps of bygone
all in the schemed rhyme and rhythm of time.
Grotesque goblins and ghouls
imagined only by a mind
that can remember lies
and is full of fools.
These beasts and creatures, muddied and mange ridden,
growl, screech, and grunt through the stormy hum
in different tones and tongues, to drown out
one's composition with one translation; future.
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