the wolf is at the door
he growls…I moan
he knows I am in here
afraid and all alone
the wolf is at the door
he claws the ancient wood
he knows I am behind it
he knows I will taste good
the wolf is at the door
his nose draws in my smell
he tastes the sweetness of my fear
his appetite I will quell
the wolf is at the door
I rise to let him in
this night will be an atonement
a night to pay for sins
the wolf is at the door
I gather my courage close
my fingers curl round the icy knob
I let in the lupine ghost
the wolf is in the door
he howls…I scream
thrust my knife into his heart
carve out his bloody wet dream
the wolf is on the floor
I smile in satisfaction
he thought I would be an easy meal
too weak to take bold action
the wolf dies on the floor
no longer a threat to me
I write my name in his cooling blood
for other wolves to see
©️2019 KT Workman
Photo via Pixabay
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An awesome poem Kathy.
Love the last stanza.
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Thank you, Alan. 😎
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“Carve out his bloody wet dream.”
Marvelous.
And the last line knocks this colorful poem out of the park.
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Thank you for your kind words…I appreciate it. 😊
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A sensory smorgasbord with a definitive message. Excellent, as usual, Kathy.
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Thank you, J. I appreciate your visit and comment. 😊
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Mesmerizing tale
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Thank you. 🙂
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Spooky 🤙🐺
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Wonderful sustained metaphor, the ending is so powerful.
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Thank you. 😊
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wow… do I have to say the writer is capable tearing wolves apart if the need arises… brilliant poem
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Thank you very much for the kind words. I appreciate it. 😊
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you’re welcome 👍
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Love it! 💕
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Thank you!
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My pleasure ❤️
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