The Howls Of Haunting Hill

By the essence of the pale moonlight
The sounds of the wolves howling
Ring across the heavens when the moon was just right

Peering through the fog
With eyes as red as blood
The wolf will rise tonight
To make his strike
He is sure the victim will not survive

Set beside the campfire the young man sleeps tonight
Unaware of the danger that stalks him upon this night
Lurking in the bushes hidden out of sight
Under the full moon on this eerie night
As he tears out of the bushes
The wolf makes his strike
As the young man fights just to stay alive

But by the moonlit heaven
The life vein shall be torn to shreds
And the blood of the victim
Shall run its deepest red

| Poetry 1 | Poetry 2 | Poetry 3 | Poetry 4 |

| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy