Moon Dogs - Abramelin

The curtain of night is drawn

Yet the darkness is kept at bay

Activity stirs in the canine commune

Beneath the glare of the glorious moon

The change has already begun

The painful affair of sprouting hair

An unrelenting intimation of horror

Bodies contorting, anatomy morphing

They ready for the impending hunt

Licentious animals fuck in packs

A cacophony of debaucherous howls

An orgy vile, all doggy style

The pack is on the move

Sniffing the air;

snapping, snarling

A suburban target, easy prey

Homosapien take-away

Don’t you move, hold your breath

A black shadow of impending dath

Ferocious golden eys fixate

Claws are poised to mutilate

Filthy blood-flecked drool

Pours from twisted rows of fangs

Noxious breath from a malformed maw

Cloys the air, nothing but despair

Surrounded by the lupine pack

The pure dread of imminent violence

The ferocity of the attack is tremendous

Concede, no weapons can defend us

The lycan pack content with numbers

Leave none alive, no need for infection

The pungent smell of blood and offal

The Earth’s stained red, but are all left dead?

A child’s escaped but not unscathed

A bold new chapter in the making

A month from now, numbers multiply

Sounds of howls and helpless cries

Human-kind decreases, the lycans now the dominant species