The Lone Wolf Howls

After a blizzard of blinding white,

A metamorphosis begins to strike against the night.

Skin splits down the middle, as the fibers rend and flay,

Limbs contort disjointedly as they turn out in display.

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With each halting step upon the forest trail,

Frozen veins prevent me bleeding out ‘neath winter's veil.

Flesh and frost entwined, the creature begins a shivering dance,

One foot and then the next, hurry quick to catch a glance!

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Body twisted and sprouting claws,

Loping forward with monstrous cause.

Predator now of flesh and ice and bone,

Eyes of terror, frozen cries heard by those alone.

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The wind carries away a low and mournful howl,

Brokering unholy communion with an odd-looking owl.

The ice grows thick and soon beast consumed,

A thing of crystal, without grave or tomb.

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Snowflakes bear witness to the horrid affair,

A face of fear exposed beneath frozen hair.

Deep in the forest, child, horror lies,

A nightmare taiga beneath the skies.

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Within the glade, a life irate,

Unable to outrun cold’s steady gait.

Hoarfrost turns to transparent block,

Claiming inventory as to what’s in stock.

A creature poised in eerie repose,

Powerful and mighty, in panic disposed.

A silent howl frozen on the lips,

Emanating deep within bestial hips.

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The silence grows in absent waltz,

Frigid landscape accepting ancient faults.

Entombed beast buried beneath crystal flake,

Waiting for final Spring to break.

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Final Spring must break.