NIGHT TERROR 3
My blood starts pumping,The nighttime hour draw near.
As my body starts to morph,
My heart starts thumping.
Filling all around with fear,
I tried to warn them,
Of there inpending doom.
Yet they wouldn't lock me,
In a windowless room.
Fearing I should see a Twilight moon,
My tail is the first to appear,
My knuckles bleed as they disappear.
my nose begins to twitch and grow,
My blood shoot eye's start to glow.
My teeth turns to sharpened fangs,
My arms and legs turn into paws,
Each one with a retractable claw.
As the blood moon starts to show,
My pointed ears prick and hear.
As my nose can smell your
heightened fear, Not wishing
to have something like me near.
My human voice is the last to go,
I try to roar but my voice is weak.
Bearing my teeth I try to growl,
But all that comes out is a sqeak.
It feels many years since you slept.
For here in a cheese making factory,
It's no fun having a weremouse as a pet.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
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Written on 2024-06-22 at 00:14
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