Ballad of a big bad wolf - Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community

QuasiMojo · 06-07-2003, 12:01 AM

Ballad of a Big Bad Wolf

The moon rises full
Almost to the point of bursting
The setting sun has past
Time has come, his cycle begun
The werewolf strikes again.

He locks himself in his room tonight
Knowing it’s to no avail
The world around him begins to spin
As he releases a mighty wail.

Canine instinct begins to ravage
An already shattered soul
Growing fangs with claws to match
The wolf is no ones fool.

From his newborn snout he drools with lust
For the taste of flesh and blood.
The burning hunger that werewolves feel
Is unlike any ones.

Lunging from it’s crouching stance
He springs and breaks away.
Bounding ‘cross the corn chocked field
Hungry Wolf is out to slay.

He follows the path that leads to town.
With the wind he stays off road.
He comes upon a mans house.
A peaceful ones abode.

The man is outside sitting.
Watching the stars up in the sky.
The wolf does see him with blood red eyes
He jumps. The man does die.

The people from the town did gather
Even before the star man died.
They know the wolf is out there
And tonight it will not hide.

On each full moon, there’s always been death.
To this, there has been a pattern.
And on these crazy, full moon nights
The wolf’s been growing fatter.

The sheriff of this tiny burg
Knows whats been going down.
One silver bullet is all he has
And that wolf, it will be found.

All across the darkened land
The townsfolk are out in forces.
Armed to the tooth, they travel in groups
Shooting at things like horses.

…and all this while, in a fashionable style
the wolf is a step ahead.
He comes across a group of four
-R I P S L A S H-
the party’s dead.

…as the beast stood poised above the carnage
the sheriff crashed through the trees.
The wolf turned around and ROARED at the sound
And dropped the poor bastard to his knees.

Clutching the pistol like a vice
He trembles and draws a bead.
The lawman felt slick, ‘cuz the gun just went ‘click’
And werewolf began to feed.

****************DAYLIGHT****************

human again
the man makes his way
back to his house on the hill.
Holding cold steel close to his chest,
Today he pays the bill.

He sits in his chair and tries to stare
This life of his he can’t figure.
He raises the gun
Whispers “Now it is done.”
And calmly
just pulls
the trigger

J.R.V.A. · 06-07-2003, 04:54 AM

Thanks quasi
I always enjoy your writing

QuasiMojo · 06-12-2003, 05:13 PM

Thank YOU "S"
believe it or not, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote. I was in my early 20's and it just flowed and flowed.
this was before my mind got all tangled.

Angel · 06-13-2003, 06:32 PM

You wrote as deliciously dark then as you do now.
Nice form and great visual B!
I liked how you ended the Wolf story.
You can almost feel the sick feeling in his stomach as the gun only clicks.

06-07-2003, 12:01 AM	#1 (permalink)
QuasiMojo King Knave Location: Lancaster	Ballad of a big bad wolf Ballad of a Big Bad Wolf The moon rises full Almost to the point of bursting The setting sun has past Time has come, his cycle begun The werewolf strikes again. He locks himself in his room tonight Knowing it’s to no avail The world around him begins to spin As he releases a mighty wail. Canine instinct begins to ravage An already shattered soul Growing fangs with claws to match The wolf is no ones fool. From his newborn snout he drools with lust For the taste of flesh and blood. The burning hunger that werewolves feel Is unlike any ones. Lunging from it’s crouching stance He springs and breaks away. Bounding ‘cross the corn chocked field Hungry Wolf is out to slay. He follows the path that leads to town. With the wind he stays off road. He comes upon a mans house. A peaceful ones abode. The man is outside sitting. Watching the stars up in the sky. The wolf does see him with blood red eyes He jumps. The man does die. The people from the town did gather Even before the star man died. They know the wolf is out there And tonight it will not hide. On each full moon, there’s always been death. To this, there has been a pattern. And on these crazy, full moon nights The wolf’s been growing fatter. The sheriff of this tiny burg Knows whats been going down. One silver bullet is all he has And that wolf, it will be found. All across the darkened land The townsfolk are out in forces. Armed to the tooth, they travel in groups Shooting at things like horses. …and all this while, in a fashionable style the wolf is a step ahead. He comes across a group of four -R I P S L A S H- the party’s dead. …as the beast stood poised above the carnage the sheriff crashed through the trees. The wolf turned around and ROARED at the sound And dropped the poor bastard to his knees. Clutching the pistol like a vice He trembles and draws a bead. The lawman felt slick, ‘cuz the gun just went ‘click’ And werewolf began to feed. **************DAYLIGHT************** human again the man makes his way back to his house on the hill. Holding cold steel close to his chest, Today he pays the bill. He sits in his chair and tries to stare This life of his he can’t figure. He raises the gun Whispers “Now it is done.” And calmly just pulls the trigger __________________ AzAbOv ZoBeLoE

06-07-2003, 04:54 AM	#2 (permalink)
J.R.V.A. Junkie Location: Utah	Thanks quasi I always enjoy your writing __________________ And as she plays, her sweet song of laughter floats through the air and warms my heart

06-12-2003, 05:13 PM	#3 (permalink)
QuasiMojo King Knave Location: Lancaster	Thank YOU "S" believe it or not, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote. I was in my early 20's and it just flowed and flowed. this was before my mind got all tangled. __________________ AzAbOv ZoBeLoE

06-13-2003, 06:32 PM	#4 (permalink)
Angel Naughty Just Right Location: Euphoria	You wrote as deliciously dark then as you do now. Nice form and great visual B! I liked how you ended the Wolf story. You can almost feel the sick feeling in his stomach as the gun only clicks. __________________ In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer. ~Albert Camus