My Last
We walk along this golden beach,
Together, hand in hand.
The sun is out and shining bright,
And I am still a man.
A few more steps, a few more hours,
The sun no longer shines.
And I, and only I alone, will be seduced
By the dark moon's powers.
You hear my growl, you hear me roar,
But there's nothing you can do.
You try to scream, but no sound escapes
As I sink my fangs in you.
You blood is warm; it sticks to my fur,
And I am sweaty from the kill.
Your eyes and mouth are open wide,
But death has silenced your cry.
Your sweet face marred by blood and wounds,
Which came from my own claws.
I thirst, and lap the water with my tongue,
And see my face reflected.
I see your blood upon my nose,
And am of my crime reminded.
I look up to the moon and cry.
I howl the whole night through.
I ask once, then again and again,
"My sweet! How could I do this to you?"
I'm transferred back to human form,
The sun upon my face.
Blood is scattered on my robes,
And why, I cannot place.
I smell death upon the air,
And running, my steps retrace.
Then I find you, mangled on the ground,
Robes tossed aside, soft hair framing your face.
I cry and wretch and want to die,
Then see something in your robes.
I pull it out, and there it lies before me.
The very weapon of my death,
The weapon there before me.
A shining, gleaming, silver knife.
Did you perhaps suspect the crime
That I committed just last night?
I place the cold hard dagger
Upon my heaving breast,
And soon I feel my own hot blood
Running down my chest.
I lie on the ground, the last of my blood
Coursing through my veins.
Not the knife, but the one
I have slain
The source of my last, final pain.
My eyes are darkened,
The world goes black.
My last sight, as my eyes turn to
My claw marks ripped across your back.
My last breaths, my final thoughts.
One word escapes my lips.
My one true love, whose name is my last prayer,
For me, I know she truly cared.
I know I'm forever damned to hell,
But I utter just one last spell:
The name of my love, the love of my life,
With whom I truly perished that night.
For me, she was the Aphrodite.
My one, my only.
My sweet.
"Hermione."