Through the darkness, I see no path,
The moon's betrayal blinds my eyes,
And grasping hands from forest trees,
Tear my skin despite all my cries.
I flee on through a maze of trunks,
Fearsome howling at my back,
I trip and stumble at each turn,
Heading further into the black.
Then something stops me in my tracks,
More fearsome than a chasing beast,
That stops my heart and both my legs -
The howls at my back have ceased.
I freeze and turn and glance around,
My beating heart about to burst,
I comb the woods and strain my ears,
For the wolf that the moon has cursed.
Nothing moves - not a sound is heard,
The wolf has given up its chase,
I thank the stars and those above,
At last my heart can cease its race.
I do not run - instead, I walk,
Daring not to make too much noise,
Just in case the wolf still preys near,
To finish what it most enjoys.
At last, I near the forest edge,
Through all the trees, I see its end,
With much relief, I rush on fourth,
No longer here will I be penned.
Rustling leaves from far above,
Pause my strides as the fear returns,
As I stare up into the trees,
Into a burning gaze that spurns.
Fur as black as the beast's own heart,
A drooling maw of bloodied teeth,
The final sight I ever see,
As it drops and I fall beneath.
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