Werewolves and Witches

The moon shines delicately across the pale sheets,
her skin as fair as the moon's.
The lonely howl echoes from beyond the mountains,
the cries piercing her heart like a knife.
She longs to be with him,
She longs to be held by him.
but she cannot go to him.

The wolf whines to the pale moon
for taking him from his bride.
She waits for him patiently by the bed,
Her weary bones falling tiredly
onto the moon-white sheets.
He longs to be with her,
He longs to hold her,
but he cannot go to her.

Bright Moon mocks the lovers parted
laughing as she rises into the dark purple sky,
her many suitors pasted around her in velvet,
laughing with her at love's plight.
They long for each other,
The long to be in each others arms
but they cannot go to each other.

This night, with the moon's reflective rays
bright upon pale sheet and fair skin,
taking the groom from his bride,
changing him from man to beast.
The bride cries in her wedding bed,
longing for him,
longing to be with him,
knowing she cannot go to him.